Pirates: The Garden of Immortality
by LadySparrow01
Summary: 'He was the only person that was cut out for the job of being Jack Sparrow. That was the reason why he had a hold on Emera's heart. And it was also the reason why she was blindly charging to his rescue in the middle of the night.' Third installment. Follows "Pirates: The Golden Masque." Takes place before "Curse of the Black Pearl."
1. Part 1

***Oi! Have you read Book One? Have you read Book Two? If not go and do so right now! Go on! Go and read 'Pirates: Welcome to Tortuga', and 'Pirates: The Golden Masque.' Elsewise this wont make much sense.***

Pirates:

The Garden of Immortality

(A _Pirates of the Caribbean _Short Story)

By: Lady Sparrow

At night, out in the middle of the Caribbean, the sky and the sea meld together. When standing on a spit of land, it could be said that there wasn't a horizon at all. The island seems to be the only source of life in a never ending dark void. That is, of course, until the clouds break and the splattering of stars could be seen. Their light would be enough to guide any wanderer as though they traveled through the day. On such an island, which sat in the midst of a blackened ocean, on such an evening when the stars could be seen, was a large house. It's occupants, on such a fine and calm night, were all sound asleep or else otherwise engaged in late-hour activities. All, save one.

Emera Flint hurriedly picked her way down the sandy little hill that lead away from her father's house. Her goal was the shabby dock not fifty paces down the beach from where she was. There, tethered safely in place, was the small sailing dinghy, _The Scurvy Servant_, that she planned to commandeer. The young sailor supposed that 'commandeer' wasn't exactly the right word considering that, technically, the boat belonged to her in the first place. But it added a sense of excitement to her clandestine departure. The sack she lugged over her shoulder was weighed down with supplies she had nicked from the pantry, and tucked into her belt were the sea charts she had taken from her father's study. At this point, she had stolen enough from her family to be considered a thief. So why call taking the small ship anything other than 'commandeering.' She was, after all, a Pirate. And she was on a quest.

Three days ago, Emera had received a disturbing message. It had been scrawled across the surface of her bedroom mirror with a stick of her own kohl. The note read:

_You took something of mine, and so I've taken something of yours. If you want him back... then come and get him. And bring the Mask._

_\- Caroline._

The words were burned into Emera's mind the moment she read them, for they could only have one possible meaning. Caroline had somehow taken Emera's friend, Jack Sparrow. The first time Emera met this woman was less than a week ago. The young sailor had once again been caught up in one of Jack's adventures, this time in the form of a Masquerade robbery rather than their previously casual commandeering of She-Pirate's ship. As is the nature of such outings, it had gone to pot incredibly quickly. Their intention had been to steal a Golden Peacock Mask and Caroline had shared that goal. In the heat of a fist fight, Emera was able to snatch the Mask, but later turned it over to Jack, who (hilariously) turned it right back over to her after reliving it of its central feather. A key. And that was something Caroline didn't know. The woman must have believed that Emera still had it. And she wanted it in exchange for Jack. How she had gotten into the young sailor's bedroom to leave the message in the first place was a mystery that sent chills down her back. Somehow Caroline had figured out where Emera lived. Somehow she had tracked down Flint's Island, a place that wasn't marked on any sea chart or map.

Emera jogged the last few paces to the docks. Although she was now well out of sight from the house, she couldn't shake the feeling that she might be spotted. Escaping the building had been an adventure in of itself. The old house was weather worn and well traveled by its occupants, thus making the floorboards loose and creaky. Even on bare feet with her boots under one arm, she had made far too much noise. It was a blessing that she hadn't woken anyone. Now, as she packed her supplies into the dinghy and made ready to sail, it felt far too quiet. The young sailor scratched absentmindedly at the scar across her left palm. A souvenir from her first adventure with Jack. Itching at the rough mark had become an unfortunate habit of hers. She often found herself at it when uncomfortable or when thinking of Jack which, incidentally, made her uncomfortable.

She tried to keep her mind off of him when she shoved off from the dock. But lately Jack had been finding a way to creep into her thoughts no matter how much Emera focused on other things. In fact, he had been freely waltzing around her mind since the first moment they met. It had just taken her a painfully long while to realize it. The hold that man had on her was something she had only ever read about in books and seen from time to time in her travels. She had never, not once in her life, thought it could happen to her. When she was a child, she had mused at the idea of one day falling in love. But as she grew, so did her knowledge and understanding of the type of men she lived around. As a young woman, she had conviction in her resolution that seafaring men where harsh, callus, boorish folk. Of course there was no denying that occasionally a man of finer character could be found. Her own father was an example of that. However Emera had decided that, on a whole, Pirates were not the sort of men anyone should fall in love with.

But then she met Jack Sparrow.

And all at once everything changed. He was unlike anyone she had ever met. Yes, he was still a gicky, craggy, loutish rouge who's knowledge of personal hygiene could be used as a yardstick to measure his understanding of personal space. Yes, he was a black-hearted Pirate who valued material goods over his own safety, not to mention the safety of others. And yes, often times he seemed to be lacking the few key components that made up a sane mind. But he was also an enchanting, charismatic, eloquent individual who understood that a ship was not just a means of travel but was instead the very essence of freedom. He had a certain, almost fearless, disregard for the rules which set him miles apart from common folk. And although he seemed unstable in his thoughts, he had been blessed with the ability to orchestrate chaos while simultaneously working towards a larger final-goal. He was a Pirate and an explorer and a storyteller and a good man. But more than anything else, he was himself. And he was the only person that was cut out for the job of being Jack Sparrow.

That was the reason why he had a hold on Emera's heart. It was also the reason why she was blindly charging to his rescue in the middle of the night. Settled in beside the tiller, the young sailor navigated away from Flint's Island. Thankfully the sea was calm and a steady wind had already caught her sails. She checked her shabby little compass, then glanced down at the charts she had taken. With a shove of the tiller Emera corrected her coarse, causing the boom to swing across to the other side of the mast as she came-about. Now with the nose of her ship pointing East she was headed the right direction. She wasn't sure how long it would take to reach her destination. She only knew that her venture would take her straight into the heart of the Bermuda Triangle.


	2. Part 2

Navigating the ocean in a boat, no longer than one is tall, is a danger in of itself. Sailing that tiny vessel at night is madness. But neither of those things could compare to the fact that Emera was willingly entering the Bermuda Triangle. The legends of the Triangle had been whispered among Pirate-kind for as long as Emera could remember. Countless vessels had been lost within the mysterious stretch of ocean, never to be seen again. Other ships that had ventured along the Triangle's outer edges brought back stories of strange happenings and wild encounters. Their crewmen would swear up, down, left and right that some sort of supernatural force was at play. Emera had heard stories of sea monsters, mermaids, freak-storms and even spectacular God-like beings. She didn't know what she believed. All she knew was that over the years, the stories and the facts had become so blended that they were completely indiscernible from one another. And after seeing a woman summon forth the power of the sea whilst standing in a music room, Emera was willing to believe a thing or two.

As rash as setting out on her own seemed, the young sailor had taken some precautions before her venture. The night she discovered Caroline's message, Emera sought out the advice of a man who had seen firsthand what lay within the Triangles borders. Emmet Hold or 'Cookie' as he was affectionately called, was that man. He had sailed with Emera's father since the two of them had served in the English Navy. The strange wonders that they had seen together numbered many and included events of the supernatural and other-worldly. Cookie knew more about the Bermuda Triangle than anyone else Emera knew. Unfortunately, he also knew Emera as well as her own father did. And although he answered her every question with a smile, it was clear that he could tell something was afoot.

Even still, he concluded their chat by saying, "I've no idea what yer up t', Me-Emmy. But if the Triangle's involved than ya best rethink yer venture."

Now, as Emera entered deeper into the dark waters, she half wished that she had listened to her old friend. If she had she would be safe at home instead of venturing out into the open ocean. Inky black waves rocked the tiny dinghy back and forth as they lapped against the small vessel. Above, the sky was clear and seemed to have been flooded with the entirety of the heavens. Emera took it as a good omen. She would be able to navigate better with the aid of the stars. It was her specialty. Modern tools like charts, compasses and sextants were useful, but the young sailor always had more luck when using the stars. It took her a while before she found the north star among the vast stretch of others. When Emera did, however, she didn't lose sight of it again. The trick was one she had used many times before. Finding her way was a simple matter of aliening her charts so that north on the parchment faced north in the sky. From there the young sailor could ensure that she was traveling along the right path. It wasn't an overly complicated procedure and in truth it was the one she used when navigating aboard her father's ship. On _The Rose _Emera held the rank of Sailing Master, meaning that her soul duty (other than managing a watch here and there) was to navigate the ship. And over the years she had become rather good at it. As rubbish as she was at remembering landmarks, she was brilliant when she had a map. All she needed to find her way was a few charts and a clear view of the north star.

There was a strange sense of liberation that came from putting distance between herself and Flint's Island. The farther out she went, the more she felt it. Aside from the time she had stolen a boat and sailed out of Tortuga's harbor, Emera had only ever manned her father's ship. Now, she was her own Captain. There was no one to tell her what to do or where to go. She was finally free. And freedom had a flavor she was sure would become addicting. The sea had never smelt sweeter, the stars had never shone brighter, the wind...

_The wind_. Emera furrowed her brow a little and glanced up at the dinghy's sails. The fabric there hung slack from its rigging. Not good. The young sailor stuck a finger in her mouth, wetting it with her spit before holding it out in front of her. She waved it every direction but there was nothing. Not a breeze, or a whisper, or even a tremor of wind. It had dropped off so suddenly it was reminiscent of a window being shut against a gale. Every seafaring soul knew that above all else _wind_ had the most power over their lives. Without it, ships were stranded out in the middle of nowhere without a hope of movement. Just as Emera was stranded now. She was able to drift for a ways with the momentum she had. But it didn't last long. After a while Emera's boat slowed to a standstill. There wasn't even a wave to ride. The water had become smooth and glassy, reflecting the starry sky above so that the sea and the heavens blended together. For the life of her, she couldn't tell where the horizon was. The young sailor was lost in an ocean of stars.

Emera had learned at a very young age that a Pirate was nothing if not resourceful. Quite simply, they had to be. If one couldn't problem-solve on the go, then one was doomed to an ill fate. Her first thought was to check the small hold at the bow of the dinghy for an oar. She cracked open the small compartment, unceremoniously ripping the covering away. It was too dark to see inside but the air smelt stale and faintly of mold. She groped around blindly, trying to find something useful. The only items stored there was a coil of rotten rope and a bailing bucket. Not an oar in sight.

"Of course not. Why would there be an oar? It's not like it would come in handy or anything if, oh I dunno, the wind suddenly died out... _Bugger!_" Emera sighed as she leaned back against the mast in defeat, her foot knocking the bucket as she settled, "Well, at least I'll be sorted if I suddenly start t' take on water."

She stared at the old wooden container for only a moment before an idea struck her. A second later Emera was leaning over the side of the dinghy, using the bucket as a paddle. She scooped it through the water along one edge of the boat before throwing herself across to the other side to repeat the action. Slowly but surely, she _The Scurvy Servant _began to move forward. The little vessel rocked violently from port to starboard as Emera flung herself from side to side. When the boat threatened to capsize for the third time in thirty minutes, the young sailor thought better of her plan. She slumped back into the boat, laying stretched out along its belly. Her arms felt limp from the effort of hauling water and were soaked through up to her elbows. It had been a good plan, but it would be impossible to keep at it. So instead she let herself drift until the little boat had no more momentum.

Emera laid in the bottom of the dinghy, looking up at the stars. It felt strange to be in a boat that wasn't moving. She had been stranded without wind before, but the lack of waves was unsettling. Normally when her father's ship lost the wind she would pass the time by completing her duties and sleeping. In a small, one person dinghy there were no duties to compete. And without the usual wave educed rocking, she doubted she'd be able to fall asleep. Not to mention she was beginning to feel land-sick. Her stomach tended to churn without the rhythm of the ocean. She tried to take her mind off of it by counting stars. Surprisingly enough, tallying the heavens had the same effect on her as waves. Before long she was dozing off and found herself hoping, wearily before falling asleep, that Jack would be alright.

A blinding light woke Emera sometime after. She stirred groggily and shielded her eyes with one arm. As it turned out, the light was nothing other than the sun. It scorched the sky and reflected off the sea, washing out the colour until everything looked unnaturally pale. The young sailor squinted up at the sail, it fluttered slightly with a breeze that she could only just feel on her skin. It was little more than a pathetic breath, but at least it was better than nothing at all. The dinghy glided smoothly across the still water at an ambling pace. Emera rubbed the sleep from her eyes, astonished that she had slept for so long. When she had passed out it couldn't have been very late. Now it was as bright as midday. She shielded her eyes again and squinted at the sky. The sun sat directly over head, beating down on the little dinghy without remorse. It made the air uncomfortably humid and sticky.

Emera rooted through her supplies, looking for the water she had brought with her. When she found it she drank more than she probably should have. But even then it wasn't enough to quench her thirst. It felt as though she had had a mouthful of sand at one point. No matter how much she drank she still felt parched. She sat braced against the mast, too hot to move or even think. She wasn't sure how long she sat there, drifting aimlessly, but it felt as though it had been hours. And still, the sun was in the exact same position as when she first woke. High noon. She didn't know if the heat was making her delirious or if the Triangle was messing with the ordinary flow of time. All she knew was that her skin hurt and that she was too exhausted to ponder the workings of the Triangle. So she leaned there, allowing herself to cook while she drifted in and out of sleep.

"Emera." A familiar voice came from in front of her, "Em, wake up."

The young sailor opened her eyes. They ached from the glaring light that still washed out her surroundings. It was a moment before her vision cleared and she could bring the dinghy into focus. And when she saw who was sitting across from her, she could hardly believe her burning eyes.

"Jack?" She choked out, her voice rough and dry, "Jack, how did you...?"

He sat at the bow of the dinghy, his elbows braced on his knees and his hands steepled in front of his lips, making him look as though he was in prayer. He looked exactly as he had the last time she'd seen him. His wild hair and shabby clothes as eccentric as ever. He stared at her, his dark eyes locked onto her face. He looked... worried, concerned, as he took her in.

"That's not important, Love." He told her, his gaze never wavering, "What's important now is that you get out of here."

"What?" She blinked at him and rubbed at her stinging eyes.

"You're in grave danger, Love." He leaned forwards and took her hands in his, "You can't stay here."

"But how am I supposed t' do that?" Emera looked behind herself at the mast, "There isn't any wind."

"Isn't there?" Jack furrowed his brow at her.

The moment he said it, there was a sudden gale. It whipped past Emera, tugging at her bangs and clothes. She glanced at the mast again. The sail was as flat as it had been the night before but there was a strong wind sure and clear. Emera shook her head, trying to understand what was happening.

"I don't understand..." She shook her head again, "Jack, what's going on?"

"It's the Triangle, Darling." He told her, "Things don't work the way they ought to in here. It's playing with your head. Muddling you up. I'm not even really here. Your imagination is producing some rather impressive figments."

"What are ya talking about?" She didn't understand, she could hear what he was saying but for some reason she couldn't comprehend it.

He gripped her shoulders tightly, "Wake up, Emera! If your life means anything to you, you'll wake up!"

Emera opened her eyes. The sea was writhing around her and a strong gale had taken charge of her sails. Dark clouds covered the sky and cast icy rain down on her. She was all alone in the middle of a storm. She leapt into action, attempting to gain control of her dinghy. Taking up the tiller she forced the small boat to work with the wind instead of against it. But the waves were so intense that it made any action she took superfluous. She shouted and cursed in frustration. One moment she had been dying of heat exposure and the next she was liable to drown. Her pathetic little dinghy was tossed violently by the massive ocean waves. From a large ship like Captain Flint's _Rose_, one didn't always notice the pounding sea. The large Schooner had the ability to take a lot of punishment. It cut through harsh waves as easily as it would glide across a calm bay. _The Scurvy Servant _however_,_ being only a miniscule boat, was left to the ocean's mercy. The vessel's wood frame creaked threateningly as it was thrown about in the water. Waves that would have seemed inconsequential from _The Rose's _deck now loomed over Emera, towering like inky black liquid mountains. They would suck up the little dinghy, dragging the ship up their massive slopes to the crest of the waves. Then they would drop her back down the other side at such a speed that she had to brace herself within the bottom of her boat to keep from being thrown astray. The nose of the dinghy would dig into the sea when it met the gullies that lay between waves. Water began pooling in the boat faster than Emera could bail it out, but even that was the least of her worries compared to what lay just ahead.

As the tiny boat reached the crest of another wave, Emera was able to sit up long enough to see what she was truly dealing with. Brewing before her in shades of grey and sea-green was a colossal hurricane cloud. The awe-inspiring behemoth before her swirled visibly with the force of the wind generating it. Wind so strong that it tore _The Scurvy Servant's _sails clean from her rigging. The naked vessel plummeted back towards a gully and Emera's view of the hurricane was blocked out by the next monstrous wave. The hurricane raged directly overhead now. The young sailor desperately braced herself against the sides of her boat, her numb and waterlogged limbs struggling to muster the strength needed to keep her in place. With another violent roll the next wave scooped her up in its watery hold. She thought she might have let out a scream but she couldn't be sure. Her voice was lost somewhere among the howling winds, turbulent waves and explosions of thunder. Just when Emera was certain it couldn't get any worse, the ocean broke apart in a furry of water. Out from the very depths of Hell breached a beast the likes of which she had only ever read about.

The Leviathan.


	3. Part 3

The Leviathan was a colossal serpent far larger than any ship Emera had ever seen. It let loose an Earth rattling roar as it threw back it's fearsome head. Like a shark, the creature had a mouth that consisted of multiple rows of razor teeth. Great fans of flesh and bone crowned it's head in the same way a Dragon's might. Emera could only stare as frozen terror flooded her veins. And the creature stared back with two sets of great, golden eyes. If she hadn't been so horrified, the young sailor probably would have thought the Leviathan's eyes looked like those of a snake. They had the same, narrowly sliced pupils that seemed to stare straight through their pray. Of course, Emera had never seen a snake with four eyes before. The creature's were arranged one set above the other, the eyes on top being slightly smaller. Even still, they were bigger than the young sailor and her dinghy combined. The great beast stared at her as though it was looking directly into her soul. And then, it let out another cry.

Emera had never heard the sound of a million horrified screams, but she was certain that it sounded exactly like the noise that came out of the Leviathan. She clamped her hands over her ears and dropped into the belly of her boat as the sound ripped past her. It made her teeth rattle and her bones quiver with its sheer force. Then, the beast lunged at the dinghy. It plowed into the water, it's massive body creating a tsunami as it dove. No power in this life or the next could have saved the little dinghy. Its poor body simply couldn't take the punishment. The boat seemed to burst all at once as it was flung by the water. Its seams bust open and abandoned Emera into the waves. The ocean writhed around her, pushing and pulling her body in directions she didn't understand. One moment she was above the surface and the next she was below. She clawed against the water but no matter how hard she fought it was no use. Her limp body was powerless against the force of the sea. She had become disoriented very quickly. And she had no idea where the Leviathan was.

As fortune should have it, however, Emera was sucked up by the pull of a particularly strong wave. She managed to break the surface long enough to land hold of some floating debris (all that was left of _The Scurvy Servant_.) Now that she was buoyant again, the young sailor filled her lungs with air as though it was the last chance she would get. Heart pounding and eyes burning from a combination of past sun and current sea salt, Emera desperately tried to looked around. All around her was nothing but a swirling mass of grey ocean. Getting her barring would be impossible. With no other choice, she held fast to her plank of wood, hoping beyond hope that she would somehow make it out alive.

Emera had heard stories claiming that when someone was about to die (or was in a near-death situation) they would see their life flash before their eyes. They would see everything in that vision, starting from the moment they were born until the moment their souls left their bodies, as though they were reading a book impossibly fast. Or, perhaps, it was more like they were watching a play of their own lives in which the actors moved with God-like speed and all the scenes took less time than a blink to perform. Neither of those things happened to Emera as she held fast to her bit of debris. No, there was no lightning fast recap of her twenty-some years on Earth. Instead, it felt as though time itself had stopped. It seemed to her that she had always been fighting for her life in that storm. She could hardly remember a time when she hadn't. She didn't think about all the things she had done in her life time. Instead she found herself thinking about all the things she would never do. All the places she would never see. All the people she would never speak to again.

Even if her father found the note explaining why she had gone, Emera would never be able to tell him herself. Her father, stepmother and siblings would never know what they truly meant to her. Cookie would never know how much she valued his advice and Kay, her best friend in all the world, would never understand how much she had changed her life. As Emera waited for death either by storm or sea-beast, she realized that the people most important to her would never know that she loved them... _Jack_ would _never_ know...

She hadn't even had the chance to tell him the truth.

Emera, exhausted from the constant battery of the waves and frozen to her core, could barely hang on to her miserable plank of wood. As her vision began to blur she caught a glimpse of what she thought was either sunlight or the Leviathan's golden eyes. Then, everything went black again and her body finally gave in to the raging waves around her.

The first thing Emera noticed when she came-to was how bright it was again. She groggily squinted against the harsh sunlight, half hoping to be back in the dinghy without a whisper of wind. At least then the storm and Leviathan would have been nothing more than a heat induced nightmare. She wasn't that lucky. The sun was gleaming off of the white sand that Emera was stomach down in. The young sailor slowly pushed herself up onto her forearms, looking around. She was stretched out in the middle of a long beach. To her right, the sea lapped calmly against the shore in the rhythmic pattern of gentle, shallow, waves. To her left, the Earth rose up into a sharp, rocky, cliff-face which circled around in front of her until it gave way to a jungle. Above the sky was clear and dazzling blue. Emera turned to look back out across the ocean. Miles away a ring of dark clouds and storming ocean circled round the shore. Wherever she was, it was in the eye of that hurricane.

Emera clutched at her chest a little, looking for something to assure herself that she wasn't dead. Somehow, she had survived that storm and managed to make it to shore. She ran her hands through her short hair and let out a few sighs of relief. It was remarkable to think that she had survived a hurricane and the Leviathan. In fact, it was beyond remarkable. It was an insane amount of good fortune. The young sailor was so relieved she couldn't help but break into hysterics. Concurring death had a way of getting to her in a way no amount of alcohol or treasure could. She lay on the beach for a while, laughing like a mad-woman to herself. But her bliss quickly died down into wracking sobs. She laid there in the sand for a while, crying harder than she had in a long time. She hated herself for it but she couldn't seem to make herself stop. Even though there was no one around to see her Emera buried her face into the crook of her elbow.

It was quite some time before she had gathered her wits again. She sat up while wiping the tears from her eyes, frustrated. They still stung something awful and her skin hurt too. The young sailor looked down at her arms. Her usually tanned skin was practically scarlet. Cooked, Emera guessed, from her hours of laying in the sun. Luckily the burn was limited to her arms, face and neck. The rest of her body had been protected by her shirt and trousers. As fortunate as that was, it didn't change the fact that she was thirsty, tired and in a great deal of pain. Knowing that she couldn't stay out on the exposed beach, she got to her feet. Her legs wobbled, unsteady on the solid ground. Her stomach did a few flips as she found her footing. More land-sickness. And this time she didn't have the will to fight it. Stumbling into the jungle, Emera bent double and was sick into the underbrush for several minutes. Even after there was nothing left to be-rid of, her stomach lurched violently. The involuntary action left her shaking with the taste of acid heavy in her mouth. Emera wiped at her lips with her sleeve as she scooted away from where she had expelled the contents of her stomach. It certainly was turning out to be one Hell of a day.

The idea of trudging through the jungle wasn't one Emera was particularly keen on. But she knew that if she didn't get some fresh water into her and soon, she would be done for. And so she set off into the thick forest. Everything within its stretch was tinted green by the light filtering through the tick canopy above. Emera had been in many a jungle before so she was no stranger to bushwhacking, wildlife or even bug bites. But this jungles was the likes of which she had never seen before. Bizarre plant life that she couldn't identify and animal calls she had never heard surrounded her in every possible direction. The foliage was somehow _too_ green. The flowers she passed were explosions of abnormal colour combinations. Reds and blues and yellows and pinks all splattered across petals like a painting that had gone wrong. And what was more, some of the plant life wasn't plant life at all. As she walked, the young sailor would duck past a bush or groupings of flowers that suddenly burst to life in the form of peculiar birds of odd rodents. What she had thought to be a moss covered rock turned out to be a giant tortoise. And what she assumed was the bark of a tree became dozens of swarming insects. Whatever this place was, it wasn't like anywhere Emera had ever been.

She had been trekking around the jungle for who knew how long, and still there wasn't a stream or pond in sight. The young sailor slumped down against the trunk of a tree to catch her breath. Her eyes and nose itched with the familiar discomfort that always over took her while in the presence of heavy foliage. She sneezed a few times and cursed the congestion building in her sinuses. On top of that, the heat was immense, just as it had been earlier, and the humidity was making the air thick. It was hard enough to force it down into her lungs without her being stuffed up. She took deep, labored breaths as she sat there, trying to plot out the course she would take. So far Emera had been traveling in what she thought was a straight line. Of course there would be no way of telling if that were true. She had lost her compass when she had lost her boat and there wasn't any point in using the sun to navigate. Even though it had been many long hours since day break, the sun was still directly over head. A constant, never changing nor wavering, high noon.

Hot and frustrated, Emera pulled off her waistcoat and collared shirt, leaving her clad in her sleeveless underbodice. It was a relief to shed down to only one layer. As the young sailor wedged her stripped clothing into the gap between her hip and belt, she thought of all the proper young ladies she had seen in dresses of multiple layers. She had always felt sorry for them, walking around in such heavy fabrics, no doubt sweating and feeling faint all the time. Emera had experienced that briefly the last time she had seen Jack. She didn't miss it. No, she preferred the men's clothing she typically wore. They were no were near as fine or elegant as some of the gowns she had seen while in port. But they served their purpose just fine.

After a while of sitting, Emera had regained enough of her strength to keep going. She hauled herself to her feet and was just deciding which way she should go when she heard the distinct sound of someone talking. It was coming from somewhere off to her right, but she couldn't make out who it was. Hope leapt in her chest, fluttering around in her ribcage like a small bird.

"Jack?" She called out, her voice rough and dry, "Jack Sparrow!"

Emera hugged her tree, waiting for some kind of response. She held her breath as she strained to hear more. After a moment there was the faint rumbling of a reply. She couldn't make out what the voice had said, but she was certain it had been Jack's. The young sailor pushed away from the tree and ran off towards the voice. Crashing through the underbrush and leaping over branches and logs, Emera called out again.

"Jack?!" She cried.

"Emera?!" Came his voice loudly from somewhere in front of her, "Emera! What the bloody Hell are you doing here?!"

She flew out of the thicket, finding herself in a small clearing. And there, on the opposite side, was Jack Sparrow. He looked just as she remembered him. His wild hair and shabby clothes as eccentric as ever. He stared at her, his dark eyes locked onto her face, a mix of shock and joy in his expression. Emera, feeling a peculiar lightness in her chest, couldn't stop herself from running across the clearing and into his arms.

"Jack! I'm so glad t' see you!" She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

"As am I, Love." He hugged her back, laughing gently, "You look ruddy terrible."

"It's been a long trip." She explained into the crook of his neck, feeling as though she might burst into tears for no reason at all.

"And you smell funny." He remarked.

"So do you." She rolled her eyes but smiled as she took in the comforting scent of sweat, sea-salt and alcohol that clung to his skin.

"What are you _doing_ here?" He asked, "Last I recall, you and I parted ways on good terms. How is it you've tracked me down?"

Emera pulled away a little so she could see his face, "I'm here t' rescue you."

"_Rescue_ me?" He raised an eyebrow at her, "What, pray tell, do I need rescuing from, Love?"

She furrowed her brow, "I'm here t' save ya from that kidnapping gilflurt, Caroli- "

"I hate to break up this adorable little reunion," Came a voice like smooth silk, "but we really must push on."

The young sailor looked passed Jack's shoulder to confirm what she suspected. Sure enough, leaning causally against a tree with a cool and unimpressed smirk on her face, was Caroline.

"So glad you could join us, Miss Flint." Caroline greeted her in a smooth drawl.

"_Bugger._" Emera swore under her breath.


	4. Part 4

Caroline's ocean blue eyes looked the young sailor up and down a few times, sizing her up steadily. The woman was beyond stunning. The first time Emera had met her, she thought that she looked like something out of a Botticelli painting. Her long golden hair, which was pulled back from her face by a rich silk scarf, fell to the center of her shoulder blades in loose curls. Her skin was flawless and pale, like smooth porcelain. The only difference in her now was the way she was dressed. She wore snug fitting, light coloured, slacks and a pale corset. An outfit which didn't leave much to the imagination. It accentuated her full, curved figure in a way that her ball gown in their previous encounter had not. Once again, however, all the colours she wore worked to highlight those strange eyes of hers. It was as though she was wearing the ocean itself. And Lord, how Emera hated her.

Still hanging from around Jack's neck, she was quick to react. Emera seized the pistol he kept tucked into the sash around his waist and aimed it over his shoulder at Caroline. Jack let out a surprised 'Oi' that the young sailor ignored. The woman only smiled at Emera, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Really, Miss Flint? A gun? I had rather hoped our second meeting wouldn't be so... hostile." Caroline tilted her head to one side, feigning disappointment, "Shame. And to think, you had such perfect manners when we were first introduced. Funny how a little squabble over a silly old trinket can ruin the potential for what I'm certain would have been a beautiful friendship."

Emera only glanced at Jack, her eyes flickering over his face in search of an answer that wasn't there.

In a low voice he said, "_Please_... don't do anything _stupid_."

"Look," Caroline chimed, "I know perfectly well that you're upset about what happened between us at the party. I admit that I tried to drown you... and have you arrested. But in all fairness you _did_ elbowed me in the mouth at one point and, if I remember correctly, pulled my hair. I'm willing to call it even if you are, Emera."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just shoot ya?" Emera glared at her and pulled back the pistol's hammer with her thumb.

Jack made a whining noise in the back of his throat.

Caroline took a step forward, "Well, if you shoot me then there really isn't any way for you or dear old Jack to enter the Garden of the Hesperides, now is there? No. It takes a very... particular... type of person to open those gates. Key, or no."

She plucked a long, golden item from the chest of her corset. Emera recognized it at once as the central feather from the Golden Peacock Mask. The one that was said to be a key to Hera's Orchard. Caroline flashed the key at Emera before she grinned and returned it to her hiding place. Ah, so she had it after all. Emera felt a little relieved that she had decided to leave the Peacock Mask tucked safely in one of her trunks back home.

"And believe me, your Darling Jack really, _really_, wants to see that Orchard. Don't you Jack? So much so that you were willing to drop everything and help me out. He really is such a gentlemen. I can see why you like him so much, Emera." Caroline smiled.

Emera kept her eyes and the gun locked onto Caroline as she spoke. The woman took a few more steps forward until she was standing point-blank with the pistol. She didn't even bother looking at it. In all the time that she had been speaking, her vivid blue eyes had never left Emera's. She was like a marble statue of old. Calm and unimpressed.

"Jack, Dearest, why don't you calm down your little sweetheart there and talk her through what we agreed upon. It's just occurred to me that I left the boys back by the stream and if I don't see to them they're liable to wander off." Caroline waved over her shoulder as she turned and walked away.

Emera watched the woman until she could no longer see her. Then the young sailor's body went lax. She let her arm drop to her side, the gun suddenly very heavy. Jack calmly wrapped his fingers around her hand and pried the pistol from her grasp. She relinquished the weapon without argument. He watched her face with hard, calculating eyes as he tucked the gun back into his belt. She was tempted to snap a bitter 'What?' but couldn't. She was far too tired for an argument.

"No matter the severity of the circumstances we might be under," Jack started in an irritated voice, "you may _never_ take hold of this pistol. Understand? This shot is not meant for Caroline nor anyone you know. And it bloody-well isn't yours to fire. I'll excuse this blatant act of treason on the account that you are clearly impaired at the moment, thus making you incapable of better judgment, savvy?"

"Savvy." She agreed.

Emera teetered on her feet dangerously as exhaustion caught up with her. Her knees gave out suddenly and her legs crumbled beneath her own weight. Ever the quick to react, Jack caught her in his arms, helping to ease her to the ground. The long grass was soft beneath her as she sat there, but it set her skin alight with itching. Glancing down at her palms she noticed that her hands had begun to tremble again.

"What happened to you, Emera?" Jack shook his head as he studied her.

She rubbed at her still aching and itching eyes, "It was a rough trip... t' say the least. And jungles don't typically agree with me."

"Hmm..." He nodded and looked around himself, "That dead spot on the edge of the Triangle is a world of trouble. You've been burnt rather badly, Love."

"How'd ya get through it?" Emera asked him as he reached into the fabric bag slung across his shoulder.

Jack shrugged, a knowing gleam in his eye, and handed her a leather water-skin, "Sea Turtles, Mate."

If Emera had had the energy she would have shoved him.

Instead she drank from the water-skin, grateful for its cool contents, "Of course. Sea Turtles. Did you rope these ones too? Use them t' pull yer boat along?"

"Aye." He nodded, as he snapped a few tendrils from a nearby plant and crushed a green liquid out of them, "Surprisingly fast, those little devils."

She couldn't help but laugh, "I've missed yer sense of humor, Jackie. What... what, exactly, is it yer doing with those?"

"That," He raised his eyebrows and gestured towards the bizarre plant with a nod, "is an Aloe Africana plant. I'd recognize it anywhere. The mush inside works wonders on burns. Now, hold still."

Before Emera could blink he was applying the strange liquid to her face. She had expected it to hurt but was surprised by its remarkably cooling touch. It soothed her complaining skin, seeming to absorbed the ache. Jack worked his way over her features, down her neck and across her shoulders. His hands were rough from a life time at sea, but his touch was light. Almost cautious. It didn't take him long to start on her arms.

"Still wearing my ring, I see." He commented casually.

Emera fought the grin tugging at her lips, "I forgot I had it in all the excitement."

Jack was making reference to the ring he had lent her during their escapade at the Masquerade. At the time it had been a mock wedding ring and Emera had worn it around the appropriate finger. However, after returning to her father's ship and realizing she still had it, she quickly switched it to her other hand. The band was wide and made of gold. A smooth button shaped pearl, black as night, sat in the center. Around the precious centerpiece was a twisted rope-like pattern and filigree metal work with a scallop edge. She had grown increasingly fond of it. And she suspected that, just like the simple silver band that sat around her left index finger, if she removed it she would feel oddly exposed.

"You can have it back if ya want it…" She said grudgingly.

"Keep it." He smiled at her, "I only took it to spite my Grandmama. Besides, it suites you well."

He finished working the cool gel over her arms and Emera was astonished to see that the plant had even worked to fade the redness of her burn some. Her arms still looked burnt, but nowhere near as badly as before. She had gone down at least two shades of red.

"Why have I never heard of this plant before?" She asked, changing the subject, as she looked over her arms and hands. They were still trembling slightly.

"It doesn't grow outside of North Africa." Jack smiled at her.

"You've been t' Africa?" Emera couldn't help but get a little excited at the idea.

Jack dropped his gaze, suddenly looking uncomfortable and cleared his throat, "Only once... a lifetime ago."

"Let me guess. It's a story for another time, right?" Emera raised her eyebrows at him.

He cracked a grin and stood up, "Aye. Perhaps."

"Ya know, _one day_ you really will have t' tell me all these things." She took the hand he was offering her.

"_One day_, I will. Promise." He smirked, "But today is not that day, Love."

"Of course not." She sighed, but a smile crept across her face, "Will you at least tell me why yer all chummy with Caroline?"

"Me?" Jack raised an eyebrow at her, "Chummy? Don't be obtuse. I hate everyone. You know that."

"Well then, what's going on?" She took a step towards him, "Because it seemed t' me that the pair of ya are in league with one another. How did Caroline get the Key?"

Jack looked down at her with calculating eyes, as though he were trying to decide whether or not he could trust her. The corner of his mouth twitched a few times as he pondered what to do. Evidently, he settled on trusting her. He cleared his throat and lowered his voice.

"Caroline spoke true when she said that only a very particular kind of person can open that gate." He explained, "If I want to taste an Apple of Immortality I need her."

"When did you figure that out?" Emera narrowed her eyes.

"Right after we parted ways. There's an inscription on the back of the Key." Jack stepped towards her again, closing the gap between them, "It said that only a son or daughter of the Heathen Gods possesses the power to open the Garden gates."

"The Heathen Gods?" Her eyes widened, "You don't think that she's - ?"

Jack answered her before she could finish asking, "A Goddess? I don't know. But how would you explain her seeming multitude of watery-based trickery, eh? She did nearly drown us at one point."

"Aye. And _that_ is the exact reason why we need t' get out of here." Emera hissed, "Jack, I don't trust her. She'll kill us. Why else would she want us here, other than t' get revenge for our making off with the Mask?"

"She cannot be using _us_, because _I_ am using _her_. It's simple: She opens the gate, we get inside, we turn on her and before you can say _'Jack yer a genius'_ we've got all the Apples of Immortality that we can eat." One of his hands settled onto her waist, "It's fool proof. Think about it, Love. The two of us, free to sail the open ocean... forever."

"...The two of us?" Emera breathed.

"Trust me, Darling." He smiled down at her, "I've got it all under control."

He winked before walking past her, aimed in the direction Caroline had disappeared, "We should catch up."

"The two of us." She had to blink a few times as his words settled around her, "The _two _of _us_. Why would Caroline want _the two of us_ here?"

Emera turned, following after Jack. She had a mind to question him about it, but was cut off by Caroline and two young men coming through the trees. The men were both tall, broad shouldered and well featured. In fact, they looked so much alike that they could have been one man standing in front of a mirror. Each had the same dark hair and steely eyes. They were identical in every way. Even in dress they were the same, wearing simple clothing of the same colours that Caroline frequented. They were also carrying what looked to be her belongings. The twins, standing just behind Caroline, observed Emera and Jack in silence.

"Ready to depart, I see." Caroline smiled.

With a snap of her fingers she led the group of five off into the jungle. Emera and Jack walked behind Caroline and the twins followed a few steps behind them. The young sailor couldn't help but shoot a few glances over her shoulder. She had never seen a set of twins before, although she had heard about them, and was somewhat fascinated. They didn't seem to pay any attention to her gapping. They walked in time with one another and looked straight ahead at nothing in particular.

"Jack..." Emera started in a low voice, still looking behind herself.

"Caroline's valets." He explained, understanding her question, "An odd pair, at that. They seem to have no other fancy than following Caroline about."

"They're called Didumos." Caroline chimed in without turning round.

"What? Both of you?" Emera asked the twins.

They said nothing. They didn't even look at her.

"Yes." Caroline answered, "Both of them. Emera dear, you really shouldn't bother trying to include them in the conversation. They -"

"Why not?" Emera turned to look at the back of Caroline's golden locks.

The woman laughed, a sound like wind chimes, "Sweetheart, they're both deaf and dumb."

"Oh." Emera tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, unsure of how to reply.

"Don't feel bad. You didn't know. And in any case, what I meant was that I doubt they'll even deign to converse with you, should you try to include them. They read lips. So it isn't as though they don't know what you are saying. I just doubt it's of any interest to them. They're a clever pair of boys, aren't you Didumos?" Caroline looked over her shoulder at the twins as she asked the question.

Emera and Jack turned around to see the twins smiling at the woman. Together, in perfect unison, they touched the fingertips of their right hands to their bottom lips. Then they extended those same hands forward, palms up, in the same manner one would offer something. Emera watched the gesture, curious.

"You're very welcome." Caroline replied to the movement with a smile.

Jack turned round with a shrug. Emera couldn't stop staring. The twins were utterly fascinating to her. Jack elbowed her in the ribs and cleared his throat. She realized then that she had been acting rude and idiotic. She turned round quickly, shooting a glance at him as she did so. He gave her a scolding look.

"They're still people, Love." He whispered, leaning in close to her, "Your gawking is only making everyone uncomfortable."

"Sorry." Emera whispered back, feeling incredibly guilty all of a sudden, then she turned round and faced the twins, "Sorry. For staring."

The two looked down at her, then at each other. They made a flurry of gesture with their hands. One would move and the other would respond. It took Emera a moment before she realized that they were speaking to one another. Speaking with their hands. It was a moment before they turned back to look at her. Then, in perfect unison, they gestured to her. Emera could only blink, unsure of what they had said and so helpless to reply.

"They said that they forgive you." Caroline's interpreted for her (apparently she had been watching the whole time,) "Although, they don't know why. They didn't even notice you."

"Oh." Emera rubbed the back of her neck, embarrassed by her own behaviour.

She shot Jack a glance. His only reply was a small shrug of indifference. The young sailor crossed her arms tightly and set her attention to following Caroline. By this time they were already deep into the heavy jungle. Emera didn't know where they were going, or what dangers might lie ahead. But the twisted feeling in her stomach told her that it wouldn't be good.


	5. Part 5

"Emera, dear, would you walk with me a spell?" Caroline called sweetly from where she was leading the group.

The call surprised her some. She had thought for certain that holding a pistol level with Caroline's eyes would have made her feelings clear. Apparently it hadn't. She glanced at Jack in silent question of Caroline's request. He only shrugged, no better informed than the young sailor was as to what the woman could want. Emera sighed and fell into step beside their group's leader. It was impossible to tell how long they had been wandering the jungle's vast region but Emera was certain it had been for quite some time. Until Caroline spoke, they had mostly traveled in silence.

"What?" Emera snapped the question.

"Us girls should stick together, don't you think? I can't imagine that you get much female company aboard that ship of yours." Caroline linked her arm with Emera's, locking her into position at her side.

The young sailor gritted her teeth, "Actually -"

"Now then, why don't you and I have a nice little chat, hmm?" The woman's smile was too sweet and overly friendly, "I see you got my little invitation."

"About that. How did ya find my -?" Emera started.

"Oh, that was simple. When you're as _acquainted_ as I am with the ocean, it's no trouble at all finding what you're looking for. Island included." She giggled to herself, "I must say, Emera, I'm impressed by how quickly you came too sweet Jack's rescue. Did Daddy-dearest mind you running off in such a hurry?"

Emera didn't reply.

"Oh…" Amusement flooded the woman's voice, "You do take after your mother, don't you?"

The comment stung. Abigail North, Emera's mother, had departed Flint's island in the middle of the night shortly after Emera was born. It was something the young sailor had tried desperately not to think about as she vanished in much the same manner the night before. She had to clench her fist to keep herself from tearing Caroline apart. How had she known that?

"You didn't tell him. Well, I hope you at least left some sort of indication as to where you were going. I'm certain he'll just be in an absolute tizzy when he finds out you've gone. He does baby you, so. Understandably, of course. Still, that does say something about your feelings for a certain swashbuckling fellow, doesn't it?" Caroline continued.

"Is there a point to this conversation?" Emera spoke between clenched teeth.

Caroline smiled and dropped her eyes to examine the ornaments around Emera's left wrist, "Speaking of your mother, this bracelet of yours… It belonged to her, no?"

The bracelet in question was a cuff of silver, an inch and a half in width with braided engravings on the edges, who's only decoration was a perfectly round sea-green gem (no bigger than a postage stamp) set amidst a collection of smaller, similarly coloured pocks and twists of silver wire. She had worn the piece for as long as she could remember. And Caroline had spoken true. It was, in fact, her mother's. Emera allowed her full attention to become invested in what Caroline was saying.

"How could you possibly know that?" The question caught in her throat slightly.

"Like I said, Emera, there is little in these waters than can hide from me." Her expression was cool and collected as she spoke, "My father blessed me with many gifts. You asked for the purpose of this conversation. It's simple. Cause me trouble and you get nothing. Not a single thing. However, comply and I shall offer you what information I can about your wayward mother."

"Why would you do that?" Emera furrowed her brow, sensing a catch.

Caroline shrugged, "You're an impulsive and head-strong girl who has a habit, lately, of upsetting my plans. I merely don't want a repeat of the Masquerade. And I just so happen to have something on offer I know you can't refuse."

"Then why invite me here at all?" The young sailor planted her feet, bringing them both to a stop, "Why risk it?"

"Why indeed?" Caroline smiled as she released Emera's arm and gracefully continued walking down the jungle path.

The young sailor watched as the woman sauntered forward. The sun danced off her golden hair, lending an unearthly air to her visage. Who was she? Or rather, Emera supposed the question should be, what was she? A Heathen Goddess in human form… the thought was ridiculous. But then again, judging by what she had already seen of the woman thus far and by what had transpired in order to bring Emera to where she was standing, anything could be possible. Couldn't it? After all, Caroline knew about Emera's mother. Or at least she claimed to know. And that was something no one save for the occupants of Flint's island knew. If this strange, ethereal woman really was telling the truth, the young sailor would be one step closer to answering the question that had plagued her existence.

_'Why had her mother left?'_

A hand came to rest on Emera's shoulder, bringing her out of her daze. She realized then that she had been staring after Caroline. The young sailor looked away and wiped angrily at the tears she hadn't noticed were brimming in her eyes.

"Are you alright, Love?" Jack asked, concern in his voice.

"Fine." She lied, "Just these infernal plants. I've never been much good at tolerating nature. It always makes me feel half drowned."

"Hmm." He nodded skeptically but said, "What did she want, then?"

Emera sighed, "She wants me t' stay out of her way."

Jack looked as though he would reply with something smart but the looming, collective shadow of Didumos fell across the Pirate then, silencing whatever quick comment he might have made. He nodded politely at the twins before falling back into step ahead of them. Emera followed suit without question. She didn't much care for the situation. In fact, she had a bad feeling about the whole thing. But being outnumbered and stuck in the middle of some jungle gave her little choice in the matter. She looked to Jack. He seemed comfortable enough under the circumstances. And if Jack thought it good, than she would stick it out. Besides, there was always a chance that Caroline was telling the truth, wasn't there? If that were the case, than Emera owed it to herself to at least try. Cautious not to place too much of her faith in the strange woman, she resolved that she would play along for the time being. She could, after all, always change her mind later.

Caroline lead them deeper and deeper still through the twisting expanses of the jungle until at last they broke tree-cover. The group came to the edge of a wide, glimmering, river which poured forth from the mouth of a cave. The gaping opening was set deep within the wall of a rocky cliff side which jutted rather abruptly out of the ground, as though it were some sort of rough thorn in the landscape. Smooth, flat, grey stones lined the river, spanning from the cave opening to where the group of five now stood along the bank. Without having to be told, Emera could guess what was coming next.

"The Garden is that way." Caroline pointed to the mouth of the cave, "Come along."

Without waiting for a response she stepped out onto one of the flat stones. Jack and Emera exchanged a quick glance before following. And behind them the Didumos brought up the rear. It was easy enough to step from stone to stone. Emera's boots tapped against the slick surface with satisfying stability. The farthest she had to step from one to the next was perhaps little more than a pace. Ahead of her, Jack had his arms spread wide to ensure his balance, making him look oddly similar to how he did when he ran. Emera smiled a little at the thought and stepped easily to the next stone. Her boots landed firmly atop the rock. She moved to hop across to the next when the surface beneath her feet shifted. The young sailor froze. A thrill of fear shot up her spine.

"Jack." Her voice wavered slightly.

He turned to look back at her, offering his hand, "Come on, Love. Not far now."

She shook her head, unable to speak, and pointed at the rock under her. Jack furrowed his brow as he followed her gesture. Then a look of wild panic flooded his features. Emera forced herself to look down. The rock had, by some bizarre happening, produced a head for itself. And it looked back up at Emera with great, orange eyes.

"Darling," Jack's tone was gentle and even, "Take my hand. Now."

The young sailor's eyes darted from stone to stone, each coming alive one right after the next. Every single smooth surface belonged to one of the submerged creatures. And the group of five travelers were standing directly in the heart of their gathering. They were too far out to turn back. And as a result the animals formed an impressive barricade between them and the river's bank. Emera reached out for Jack's hand. The creature below her feet moved to snap at her outstretched limb with its massive jaws.

***Hey, look who finally decided to post the next part. You know, a year later. Man, I'm sorry guys. I know that's wickedly unprofessional. The next part will be posted with all due haste. That I promise.***


	6. Part 6

A scream ripped from Emera's throat as she jumped the few feet into Jack's arms. All at once the water around them raged with the thrashing of the stone-like creatures. Polished dagger teeth glinted in the sunlight as they gnashed at the two Pirates. The animals below them writhed and twisted in a mass tangle. Jack seized Emera's hand with the sharp command 'Run!' Together they leapt from one dangerous creature to the next, moving as quickly as they could amongst the storm of teeth. Emera shot a glance over her shoulder to ensure that the Didumos were still alive. The twins had followed their example, jumping from one creature to the next as quickly as they could while simultaneously attempting to dodge the sea of mouths. Now that the beasts were crawling over one another in an attempt to devour them, Emera could make out just what kind of creatures they were. Crocodiles. Stone grey Crocodiles with flat backs and underbellies encrusted with precious, gleaming, gems. Each was longer than a man was tall. And each was incredibly angry.

Ahead of them, Caroline was also engaged in the manic dance required to stay alive. She was the first to make it to the safety of the cave. And once there, she lent her aid by shouting encouragement to the Didumos. Emera and Jack teetered precariously as they alighted on yet another crocodile's shoulders. The creature began to raise itself out of the water, carrying the Pirates with it. As if they had rehearsed their movements, the two broke into a run down the length of the beast's back. They spring-boarded off the animal's tale and onto the next furious crocodile in their path. Jump, duck, step here, move there, jump again. The adrenalin pumping through Emera's body was wild. She kept a death grip on Jack's hand as they flew up the raging river. They were nearly there. Just a few moments more.

The Hell-beast that rose out of the water in front of them made both Jack and Emera scream as though they were children. It could easily be called a King among crocodiles. The thing breached out of the water, towering over both of them and sending a wave exploding out around itself. It was huge. Easily nine feet long and still rising. It opened its colossal jaws to swallow the Pirates whole, making Emera fight to keep from closing her eyes. In a courageous attempt at preserving their lives, Jack drew his sword and made a stab at the crocodiles chest. His blade glanced off the jeweled armor with a sound like the vibration of a crystal wineglass. Useless. As the cavernous and tooth lined mouth came rushing towards them Emera through her arms around Jack. Then she leaned back. And together they toppled into the thrashing water.

It was a moment before they surfaced. When they did the two rose with a rush of water, coughing and spluttering. Without having to think about it they moved together towards the mouth of the cave. Jack brandished the blade of his sword before him, fending off the crocodiles that drew near and land a blow or two. The Pirates sloshed (running full-tilt) up the stony bank into the mouth of the cave. Emera collapsed as she sucked back air. Jack sheathed his sword, his dark eyes still locked onto the furious nest of crocodiles. Evidently the Didumos had used Emera and Jack as a distraction for their own escape, immerging completely unscathed save for a modest gash across one twin's right bicep. Caroline fussed over him like a doting mother while the other's caught their breath.

The inside of the cave mouth was dim and cool. The murky smell of stagnant water hung in the damp air. For some reason, the crocodiles didn't dare venture past the rocky bank. Instead they turned back at the threshold to seek their supper elsewhere. Naturally, that should have been a foul sign. But Emera was far too relieved to still be alive to pay much attention to it. Jack finally tore his eyes from the beasts to look down at her. She gave him a small, and what she hoped was reassuring, smile.

"Quick thinking, Darling." He nodded at her.

"I'm just glad it worked." She replied.

Caroline cleared her throat, "Well now, let's not waste anymore time."

"Are you alright?" Emera asked the twin who's arm was now bandaged with a scrap of cloth.

He smiled at her and brought his right hand to the center of his chest. He made a fist with his little finger extended. Then, closed the fist entirely and touched his thumb to his chin briefly before moving his fist forward. Next he opened his hand, touched his thumb to his chest and brought it forward again. The last motion was one Emera recognized. His fingers brushed his lower lip before lowering his hand, open-palmed, in front of him.

"He says that he's fine, thank you." Caroline translated.

"We should keep moving, yes?" Jack raised his eyebrows and gestured loosely towards the recesses of the cave.

"Yes." Caroline agreed.

The group righted themselves, taking stock before pushing on. As they ventured deeper into the cave a ghostly blue-green light washed over the stone surfaces. The glow radiated down from the ceiling, cast by luminescent gems that clustered together the further in they walked. And a low, melancholy hum accompanied the light. At first it was nothing more than soft background noise. But the farther in the group moved the louder the noise grew until it was no longer a hum. It was a roar. Like a thousand sorrowful voices bearing down on them… screaming at them to get out. The noise was so loud it rattled Emera's teeth. She clamped her hands over her ears, desperate to block out the bone quaking sound. Beside her, both Jack and Caroline were doing the same. The three were gritting their teeth and grimacing, fighting against the howling that was swallowing them alive. Try as they might to continue on, the sound brought them crumbling to their knees.

Emera landed face down on the damp stone. The noise ripped through her body in harsh waves. She tensed all over, feeling like she would explode if the sound didn't stop soon. A strong hand wrapped around her upper arm and hauled her to her feet. She could only just make out one of the Didumos supporting her through her watering eyes. On the other side he held Caroline, as did his twin who also had a hold on Jack. Didumos calmly pressed on through the cave, taking strong determined steps, guiding the group. Emera allowed herself to follow. The sound grew to a brain rattling climax that threatened to make the young sailor vomit again. She managed to look over at Jack. His face was twisted in pure agony, made all the more vivid by the wash of blue-green light. It broke her heart.

The stumbling group rounded a corner and at once the sound diminished into nothing at all. All five of them collapsed into a pile together. Emera's head swam and her ears rang. But her body relaxed, allowing her to breath. The Didumos were sitting with Caroline, trembling slightly but more focused on ensuring her well being than their own. Emera dragged herself, arm over arm, to where Jack was lying face down. Her fingers gripped at his shirt. He stirred, shifting so he could look up at her. She let out a sigh of relief and rested her forehead against his shoulder, crying. One of his hands wandered up her back in a soothing, reassuring sort of way. He was saying something but she couldn't make it out. She might as well have been underwater. It didn't matter. She was just thankful they had made it out of there.

The heavy, mumbled sounds of their own voices knocked clumsily against the cave walls. It took a long time, but slowly her ability to hear came back to her. The garbled, nonsensical sounds form words. Caroline was insisting that she was fine. Emera could hear herself crying now. And Jack was still talking.

"… all be over soon. Don't you worry… won't let anything happen… I'm fine, so please cease with that multitude of tears… need to mourn me in such an undignified manner…" His sentences washed in and out like the tide.

Emera sat up and unceremoniously wiped her eyes with her sleeve before punching Jack in the shoulder, "I wasn't mourning you. Ya had me scared half t' death is all."

"…was that for?" He rubbed his arm, "Mourning my death? What? I'm fine! I'm fine, Love!"

Clearly his hearing hadn't returned to its full working capacity yet.

Emera rolled her eyes, raising her voice so he could hear, "I know! I wasn't mourning your death! You _scared _me _half _t' _death_!"

"Scared you, what?" He stuck a finger in his ear, trying to clear it.

"Never mind." She stood and held out her hands to him.

Jack looked up at her quizzically but allowed her to help him up all the same. Emera looked over her shoulder to where Caroline and the twins were still huddled together against the cave wall. The three were utterly occupied in themselves, having a conversation Emera could only half comprehend. The young sailor took the opportunity to look around. The portion of the cave they were in now had lower ceilings than the area before. The strange luminous gems were gone. Instead, dim, deep blue light now radiated from a collection of deep pools just in front of them. Emera had never seen such vivid water before. She peered into the nearest to where she and Jack stood. The shimmering water bubbled as if it were boiling. The light it gave off flickered and danced against the rough cave walls, bringing the stone alive.

"Come on, Jack." She tugged at his hand, indicating that he should follow.

It was the opportune moment for a chat. They wandered only a little farther than the first pool. Emera didn't want to draw Caroline's eye, but she didn't want to be over heard either. When she felt they had gone far enough she turned to Jack. His features were set in heavy shadow now, more ominous than the phantom-esque lighting in the previous section of cave.

He studied her with a placate expression, "May I inquire as to your sudden need to get us alone together?"

"She knows about my Mum." Emera chewed at her thumbnail as she spoke, "Jack, she knows. How could she know?"

"What?" His brow furrowed slightly, "What are you going on about?"

"Caroline." She shot a nervous glance back at the woman, "She… before… she asked me about things. Things no one else knows. No one else is supposed t'…"

"Why didn't you say something before?" His voice was gentle.

"I couldn't." She shook her head, "Not with her so close all the time. But Jack, she knows about my Mother. She has information. That was what she offered me in exchange for my compliance in her scheme."

"Information about what?" Jack wasn't following.

"Do ya remember," She started, "when we were in the lighthouse? You asked about my Mum and I told ya that she left when I was very young."

"Aye." Jack nodded.

Emera scratched at the rough scar on her left palm, "No one outside Flint's island knows that story. And no one, not even my Father knows why my Mum left. Caroline seems t' think that she does. How is that possible, Jack?"

"Her confidence in being the only one what can open the Garden's gate does seem to indicate some truth in her being a sort of unearthly descendant of the Heathen Gods?" He raised his eyebrows, speaking quickly and with assurance, "Now I for one, have, in my time seen a thing or two. And I'm content to assume, until proven otherwise, that there's a touch of the unnatural in the works. It certainly would account for her charming water-related gifts as well as any knowledge she might have about your dear Mumsie. I say, for the time being, we allow ourselves a suspension of our beliefs. Should she not be a relation of the Gods, there'd be no reason for us to fret. If she is, however, then perhaps the question we need to be asking ourselves is _why_ she so desperately wants an Apple of Immortality. Savvy?"

"And don't forget her unexplained reasons for having us _both_ here." Emera pointed out, remembering her own concern, "So far we haven't done anything she couldn't do herself. Why bring us along?"

Jack looked at her as though it were obvious, "I had the key."

"So why leave me a note claiming she was holding you prisoner and demand the Mask in exchange for yer life?" She rubbed the back of her neck as she puzzled, "It doesn't make any sense, Jackie."

"You didn't bring it, did you?" His brow furrowed.

" 'Course not." Emera shrugged, "And she hasn't even asked for it."

He thought for a moment, "Whatever's coming next can't bode well for us, Love."

"Do you have a plan?" She asked, worry in her voice.

He didn't reply.

"Jack, tell me ya have a plan." She pleaded.

"A plan for what?" Caroline's smooth voice signalled her approached.

"Nothing." Emera and Jack said together.

The woman eyed them suspiciously but said, "Come along. We've dwelled here long enough. It's not far now to the Garden."

With only a quick glance between them, Emera and Jack followed the rest of their small group, venturing farther still into the cavern.


	7. Part 7

Eventually the caves empted out into a grotto. The five walked across its length along a naturally formed stone bridge. Some meters below was a large pool of more impossibly vivid blue water. This body, however, didn't bubble nor did it give off any light. Instead, sunlight poured in over head from the open cave ceiling. It was still dim, but not nearly as much as it had been in the caves before. Lush greenery, too, clung about the small opening's round edge and crept down the rough grotto walls towards the water below. The smell of stagnant water was stronger than ever now that they crossed over the source. It hung heavy in the air. And so did the unnatural silence of the place. The instant they entered the grotto, the group of five fell into a hush reminiscent of prayer. The grotto was a glorious, natural cathedral carved into the stone over the course of centuries. Somehow it commanded silence.

Caroline was quick to lead them through an opening in the rough wall on the opposite side of the bridge. The portal had become overgrown with thick plant life. In fact, had the woman not been there, it was likely Emera would have missed it all together. The entrance took them through a pathway surrounded on all sides by brush, enormous leaves and twisting vines. It was such a narrow trail that they had to walk in single file and even then they were pawed at by the plants. At once Emera's eyes and noise began to itch fiercely. She sneeze and cough as they hurried along the path.

Caroline was jogging now and called motivations of 'Almost there' and 'Any moment now' behind her. Emera followed closely behind Jack, all but holding onto the back of his belt in order to keep up. When Caroline broke out into a run, Jack, Emera and Didumos all followed suit without question. The group broke free from the tangled jungle path and rushed, all at once it seemed, into a brilliant clearing. Emera had to raise a hand to shield her eyes against the sudden light of day. When her vision cleared, she could see what lay before them. An enormous golden gate, the height of a ship, blocked their path. The bars of the thing twisted forth from the branches of surrounding trees and plants, morphing from natural material into the golden filigree of the entrance. It was beautiful.

"Finally." Caroline breathed as she removed the feather key from her corset.

Judging by its size, Emera would have guessed that the lock for said key was located impossibly high above them at the center of the gate. Evidently, she was wrong. Caroline closed the distance between her and the entrance and proceeded to brush the plant life aside. Together Emera, Jack and Didumos drew in close to watch. Certain as the tide, there was a lock. It was long and slender in shape with an engraving like one of the jeweled eyes from the Golden Mask laid into the metal around it. With a small, self-satisfied smile Caroline fitted the key inside. It sunk into the lock, disappearing before any of the five could snatch it back. A sound like thunder rippled forth from the gate as it opened. Everyone jumped back at least a foot. Emera and Jack glanced at one another.

_'So she is a descendant of the Heathen Gods.'_ The young sailor thought as the portal in front of her swung open.

So quickly she wasn't sure how it had happened, Caroline and the Didumos had unarmed both Emera and Jack. Each of the twins held their swords (Emera's blade was in the hand of the bandaged one) and Caroline had her long fingers wrapped lightly around Jack's pistol. She smiled coldly at the two Pirates as she held them at gun point.

"Now this _is _familiar, isn't it Emera?" She raised her eyebrows coyly.

"Ya have a flare for the dramatic." Emera commented between clenched teeth.

"Time to be useful." Caroline cooed and gestured with the gun, "You two shall walk in ahead of us. Now."

Jack looked as though he were seriously considering throttling her, "That shot is mine!"

"Oh, save it! As if you'll even be able to track down ol' Hector to use it. Honestly Jack, you're far too sentimental for my taste. Although," She glanced at Emera, "I suppose there are some who admire that sort of thing. But not me. Now we're wasting time. Move."

"Who's -" Emera started.

"No talking!" Caroline snapped, "Go! Walk!"

Slowly, Emera and Jack turned around and entered through the gate. If the grotto had been a cathedral, than the Garden was Heaven. It sprawled out before them in a devastatingly lovely array of colour and life. It was, perhaps, thirty paces from the gate to the far end, which dropped off in a sudden cliff overlooking the ocean. In the space that remained, plants of a vast verity bloomed in dizzying colours even more beautiful than the ones Emera had seen in the island's jungle. Full, delicate petals of mint green and plum purple and sky blue blossomed across the vast clearing. Upon a closer look, the young sailor noticed that at the center of each flower was not a collection of pollen but rather the stamen's were headed by glimmering gold gems. She couldn't believe her eyes.

Animals too, meandered lazily through the flower beds. Butterflies with wings of thin, shining, translucent glass danced from petal to petal. And a tortuous the size of an arm chair delicately picked his way through the fine space. Like the crocodiles, his body was grey and resembled the surface of stone. However, his shell (rather than his belly) was what was jewel encrusted. The smooth round green and blue forms caught the light with a dazzling shine. The most impressive, by far though, were the birds. They were each about four feet in height with slender, royal blue bodies. Their tales trailed behind them like the train of a wedding dress. The plumage was so fine and delicate Emera could hardly believe the forest green waifs were feathers. That was, until, one of the birds fanned out his tale. The display was massive, easily adding another five feet to the creature's height, and surrounded the bird in a great semi-circle. Countless eyes stared out from the mass of plumage. And just as in the representation on the Golden Mask, each were comprised of precious gems and metals.

"Emera." Jack said softly, "Do you remember when I first described the Mask to you and you asked me what a Peacock was?"

"Aye?" She couldn't look away from the bird.

"Well, that," He pointed to it, "is a Peacock."

"Never mind the birds!" Caroline hissed from behind them, "The tree! We're after the tree!"

In the very heart of the Garden was a large, twisting tree with spindly branches and thick, supple leaves. It stood proudly apart from the rest of the life around it. Almost as if every other living thing had been instructed to give it a wide birth. Looking at it, though, Emera could see why it was their goal. Hanging in abundance from its branches were countless fruits, each the colour of smooth, polished gold.

Emera and Jack crossed carefully until they stood directly under the sprawling bows of the tree. It might have been beautiful, with the light streaming through the leaves and dancing off the golden fruit, romantic even. But whatever the mood might have been was agreeably nonexistent whilst being held at sword point and pistol's end. All the same, Jack couldn't help but smile as he stared up at the branches. Emera took a moment to examined the fruit so sought after by those around her. She wasn't sure if she would have called them apples. If they were than they were the strangest she had ever seen. They hung from short stems and were almost perfectly round save for what looked like the petals of a blossom growing out of the bottoms. Then again, they were also gold in colour, so really who was she to say what they were.

"Caroline, darling," Jack started in a tone that told Emera he knew what he was doing, "I know why I desire one of these little tasties. But why do you? So badly in fact, that you've marched your willing partners in this escapade over here at weapons point, eh? I wonder this, particularly, since you were actually able to get us in here. If you're a relation of the Immortal, why would you require an Apple of Immortality?"

The woman rolled her eyes and made a rough sound of frustration in the back of her throat, "Because _I'm not _immortal! Honestly! I'd have thought that the infamously clever and genius-called Jack Sparrow would have been able to figure that much out."

"Captain." He corrected under his breath.

"You still don't even know who I am, do you?" Caroline laughed, "My real name Kymopoleia. And I am a daughter of Poseidon."

"The Demigoddess." Jack murmured in confirmation.

"The Water Nymph." She corrected, irritation in her voice, "And I _was_ immortal until I angered my father and was locked away in this miserable form as punishment. To answer your question Jack, because I grow annoyed at your continuing ignorance, I want one of these Apples so I can have what is rightfully mine: An immortal life."

"Then why bring us here?" Emera demanded, "Why not get it yourself? You've clearly been here before."

"And what? Be caught stealing from my Aunt's Garden?" Kymopoleia quirked an eyebrow, "I'm not an idiot, Emera. Now get me what we came for!"

She raised the gun again, jutting it towards the two Pirates. Slowly Jack raised a hand to pick one of the low hanging fruits. The Didumos both aimed their swords at him with great purpose. As if telling him to freeze.

"Not you Sparrow." Kymopoleia growled, "Don't you move one inch. I know what you're capable of and I'll not have any of your slight-of-hand in play here."

Jack raised his hands so she could see them and stepped back a respectable length. Only Emera noticed how he positioned himself directly between Didumos. And only Emera saw how he carefully shifted his weight to his left leg, placing his right lightly in front of the bandaged twin's foot. He did have a plan.

The Nymph smiled, "Emera, if you'd be so kind."

The young sailor nodded and reached into the foliage above. She closed her fingers around the fruit Jack had been aiming for. It was surprisingly cool to the touch as well as impossibly smooth. Taking a breath to steady herself (and suddenly feeling as though she were handling a keg of black powder) she gave the Apple a firm twist. The stem snapped with an audible crack that seemed to fill the Garden. Emera held her breath.

"Good." Kymopoleia said slowly, her eyes wide with want, "Now… hand it over."

Emera nodded again, "Alright. _Catch._"


	8. Part 8

Several things happened in a very short amount of time. The first was Emera tossing the Golden Apple. Her aim was off by perhaps a foot and so the fruit flew towards the Didumos with the bandaged arm instead of Kymopoleia. The second thing to happen was that, out of instinct anyway, the Nymph lowered Jack's gun so she could catch the Apple she thought was heading straight for her. When she did, Emera began to close the distance between herself and the rest of the group. The third thing that happened was the step taken by the Didumos with the bandaged arm. His step, however, caught on Jack's well placed foot. Didumos face-planted against the ground. Jack caught the Apple and grabbed his sword out of the other twin's hand. Emera snatched the pistol and brought her foot down on her own blade. Kymopoleia gawked, unbelieving, at what had just transpired.

"You planned that?!" She shrieked, "From the second we stepped into the Garden, you had that planned out!"

Jack shot her a cocky grin and shrugged, "Since the glowing pools, actually. I knew you'd betray us once we got inside, Love."

Kymopoleia opened her mouth but whatever she might have said was lost under the sudden roar that erupted from the cliff's edge. A great, horrible sight rose from below the outcrop. What could only be described as a Dragon, with more heads than Emera could count, and larger than any sailing vessel she had ever seen climbed out of the ocean and stepped into the Garden. It shook the earth. The peacocks took flight, darting out of the way and the tortuous curled himself into his shell. The thieves, however, were frozen before the beast. It's skin was a thick, ruddy mass of leather. And like all the other creatures in the Garden, it too was decorated in gems and jewels. A river of precious stones stretched from the beast's jowls to the tip of its tale. And they glowed with the same warmth as coal embers.

"I thought the Garden was guarded by other Nymphs!" Jack shouted at Kymopoleia.

"They stole from Hera." She replied and pointed up at the creature, "So she turned them into that!"

"Run!" Emera screamed, scooping up her sword.

Without hesitation the five trespassers legged it. Their retreat took them back the way they had come. It was a mad scramble to the Gate that sent them tearing through the Garden's flower beds. But with the Hell beast on their heels, they didn't have time to be delicate. It let out another belting roar, nearly sending them all sprawling to the ground. Of all the ways she imagined she might die, Emera had never dreamt that it might be like this. By some good grace, they were faster than the Dragon. But only by a little. When the five finally broke the threshold of the Gate, Kymopoleia turned back to face it.

"What are you doing?!" Jack yelled at her.

"Get behind me!" She ordered.

They did as they were told. The Nymph rose her arms above her head in a manner reminiscent of her display in the Folconi music room. Water, born from her flesh and hair, surged forth from her body in a raging typhoon. It rose in a wall of water that filled the frame of the great Gate. She was creating a barrier between them and the Dragon. And it held itself there, defying gravity in a silver, shimmering mass. Beyond the wall of water they could see the creature fast approaching. It's multiple heads drew back a breath that moved the air like a storm and then a spiraling, raging, inferno broke forth from its many jaws. The flames met with Kymopoleia's wall of water. It sizzled and boiled on the Dragon's end, rapidly diminishing in the blaze. Even behind the liquid barrier Emera could feel the scorching heat on her face. It cast the world around them in shades of blood red and burnt orange.

"It won't hold forever!" Kymopoleia shouted at them over the roar of the flames, "The pathway! Quickly!"

With one last push she abandoned the water wall to its fate and joined the others as they fled back down the narrow jungle path. They could hear the sound of the Dragon as it gained on them. Super heated water pooled around their ankles now, signalling the destruction of Kymopoleia's wall. The five sloshed along the path, batting away the foliage. Emera tried not to hear the thunder-like bellowing behind her. She forced herself not to think about how quickly the winding jungle pathway would go up in flames. Instead she focused on putting one foot in front of the other in order to lead the other's through the tight space. How she had been the first through the break astonished her. Jack followed close behind, his ridiculous run audibly marking that it was him. The young sailor supposed that beyond that Kymopoleia and the twins were bringing up the rear. At least, Emera resolved, if the plant-life did go up around them she and Jack would have a better chance of making it out than the other three.

The ground shook as they flooded back into the grotto. Just as Didumos and Kymopoleia flew through the small opening a cascade of stone broke free from the grotto wall. It crashed down in front of the hidden passage, sufficiently blocking it off from the other side. The rumble of the rock slide bounded off the cave walls, sounding of cannon fire. The group of five stood in the center of the bridge, catching their breath and praying that the Dragon didn't know how to follow them.

Emera supposed it had a wicked sort of symmetry when Kymopoleia and the twins turned on them. Neither she nor Jack had been paying them much attention. One moment they were relishing in not being dead and the next they had been ensnared by a length of rope. Evidently it had been coiled in one of their cloth satchels. Kicking and fighting did no good. The twins bound the two Pirates together under their arms, back to back, leaving them sitting in the center of the stone bridge. Then they bound their hands. When her wrists were caught, Emera gave in, offering them to the un-bandaged Didumos palms up. Jack too had been caught, his hands being tied together in a way that made him look as though he were in prayer. In the process Kymopoleia snatched the Golden Apple from Jack. She observed the ordeal with a bitter smile on her face.

"Were you carrying this around the whole time, on the off chance you'd catch us up like this?" Jack asked as Didumos finished binding his hands, "That's a little sad, Mate."

"It worked, didn't it?" Kymopoleia shrugged.

"So what now, eh?" He looked up at her, "Leave us for dead in some cave whilst you make your escape? I rather doubt that'll stop that horrible beastie from catching up."

"See that's where you're wrong, Jack. It's not after us. It's after you." She smiled down at Emera, "Well, more specifically, her."

"What?" The two Pirates said together.

Kymopoleia smiled and knelt down in front of the young sailor, "Emera dear, you picked this Apple for me. And in doing so you've marked yourself. It's after you, the thief, not us. Why do you think I brought you lot along?"

"You knew this would happen!" She shouted and wrenched against her restraints, trying to reach the woman.

The Nymph laughed, filling the grotto with her musical voice, "That I did. And when the Dragon finally breaks through that grotto wall and finds your drowned corpses, it will see it's work is done and there will be no chance of it following my boys and I."

"Drowned corpses?" Jack tried to twist about so he could see her.

"You didn't think I'd just leave you here?" She laughed again, "I know your history of escapes, Jack. You really have a talent for them. But not this time. You'll be drowned long before you get the chance. Really though, it's a shame things had to end like this. I want you to know I take no pleasure in leaving you here… well, maybe just a little. After all you did embarrass me a great deal at the Masque. It seemed only right I get my revenge. And, Emera, you were so willing to completely disregard your own safety for dear ol' Jack. You really did make this easy for me."

"Go t' Hell." Emera snarled.

"It's that sort of ferocity I'm going to miss. Really. It's too bad I have to kill you." The woman tenderly brushed a strand of Emera's hair aside, her eyes contemplative as they studied the young sailor's face, "I think you and I could have been good… _friends. _Such a waste of such a pretty girl. However you've left me no choice."

Kymopoleia kissed her fingertips then pressed them to Emera's lips with a wink. From behind her, Jack made a sort of choking noise in the back of his throat. The Nymph smiled and rose gracefully to her feet, pulling a small dagger from her belt as she did so. She used the knife to slice open the Golden Apple, standing to ensure both Jack and Emera could see. Juice seeped from the fruit before it split in half. Inside were countless round gel-like seeds the exact colour of gold. Kymopoleia smiled wickedly.

"I was going to wait." She shrugged, "But I don't want to risk it."

She used the knife to scoop out a few of the seeds and spoon them into her mouth. The instant they touched her lips her skin seemed to glow. The two Pirates watched her devour the whole thing. And when she was through, the Nymph tucked the fruit's rind into the bandaged Didumos' bag. She was being careful not to leave any part of it behind. A look of pure bliss crossed her face as she absorbed the fruit's power. Her skin glimmered like golden scales, filling the grotto with the light it cast.

"Oh, Jack." She laughed, her voice cascading through the space, "You really would have loved this. I can see why you've been seeking a way to gain it. So much better than Cortez's cursed gold. I can't believe you would even consider that option when this one was available to you. Immortality is breathtaking. Oh well."

With that she raised her arms again. The water began to spill forth from the grotto's walls, rushing down the stone surface and into the pond at its base. It began to rise. Kymopoleia laughed again. The walls shook and more water surged into the grotto. She smiled down at the two Pirates fondly. As though she were taking in her work. Then she turned and sauntered down the length of the bridge, followed by the Didumos.

"Farewell, Pirates." She called over her shoulder as she left, "I'm sure you'll be missed."

She flicked her wrist, sending more rocks crashing down behind her as they left. Both entrances into the grotto were now sufficiently blocked. And the water was rising rapidly beneath the bridge. This was the third time, in an exceedingly short span, that Emera was certain she would die. At least she was with Jack and had (what seemed to be) at least a little time before they drowned. It was clear that the powers that be were giving her an opportunity.

Wasn't that what people did in these types of situations? Confess their true feelings? She wasn't certain but it seemed like the sort of thing one might do. She took a breath to steady herself, working up the nerve to say what needed to be said. Tied together awaiting their inevitable demise… and she had a case of the butterflies. Emera thought it would have been funny if it hadn't been so pathetic.

"Jack…" She started, her voice echoing above the sound of rushing water.

"Aye?" He replied, his voice tight.

He was muttering frustrations under his breath as he wriggled against the ropes and, by extension, her. He hadn't given up yet. Had she? She looked around the grotto quickly. Their situation did seem a dire one. The space was flooding rapidly with no means of an exit and they were bound to one another in the center of it all. Emera craned her neck, trying to look over her shoulder at Jack. All she could make out was his dishevelled hair.

"Jack…" She had to tell him.

"Not to worry, Love." He reassured her, "I know it looks grim."

Emera tried again, "Jack."

"While Kymopo-what's-'er-face was giving that longwinded speech, I think I figured away out of here." He went on, "The opening at the top should serve us well as an exit. All we have to do is get loose and -"

"Jackie, would ya just listen t' me for one moment?" Emera begged.

He stopped fighting against their bonds and turned his head a little. She could just see the edge of his face now. She would have liked to have seen more, but Emera supposed she didn't have much choice in the matter. If she had had the opportunity to choose when and where she would make her feelings clear, she wouldn't have chosen this at all. She thought perhaps (now that she was thinking about it) that she would have selected somewhere nice. While walking down a beach, maybe. Or back in Tortuga, sitting out front that café looking over the harbor where they had shared sweets and cakes together. She should have said it right then and there when she had the chance. If only she had known.

"What is it?" He asked her, his voice suddenly serious.

"I… I have t' tell you something." Emera stammered, her stomach doing terrified little flips.

This was it.


	9. Part 9

"I…" Emera's mouth had gone dry, "I…"

Water poured in at an alarming rate now. It sloshed forth from the cave walls in a roaring display. And the continuous quaking of the space signaled that somewhere beyond the grotto walls was the Dragon. Still trying to get at them. Emera cursed her nerves. She was wasting time she didn't have.

"You what, Love?" Jack nudged her, prompting her to go on.

She couldn't. What she wanted to say was caught in her throat. Choking her. The scar across her left palm itched. Appropriate, considering that it was her permanent reminder of the first adventure she and Jack had shared. Scratching at it had become her bad habit. Inexplicably it would itch every time she was uncomfortable or nervous. Or when she thought of Jack. She squirmed in her bonds, bringing her palms together so she could scrape her short nails across the rough scar. The instant her hands met the rope around her wrists went slack. Not enough to slip the bond completely, but enough to maneuver herself better than before.

The trick was something her father had taught her ages ago. And it was so ingrained in her that she hadn't even realized she had done it. When she had been caught, she offered her hands palms up. It was a simple thing but could mean a world of difference. When bound with one's hands facing up it forced the rope to be tied around a larger surface area than it would had the hands been palm to palm. Then, it was a simple matter of twisting one's hands together so as to gain that half an inch of slack. It wasn't much. But it would work.

"I…" She stared down at her hands in astonishment, "I can get us free!"

"Why didn't you bloody-well say so in the first place?" Jack demanded.

Emera felt her face flush and was thankful that her back was to him. She would have to confess her feelings later. Once they'd escaped. She set to work. It took maybe to the count of ten to wriggle free of the ropes. It was a simple matter of twisting this way, then that way. Sure enough the young Pirate was able to slip the bonds over her hands. But by that time the cold cave water was already flooding the stone bridge. It was sloshing over their legs. Emera rubbed at her wrists a little as she threw down the rope. They were scratched and rubbed raw from the rough fibers that had held them.

"I'm out." She announced, "Hang on."

"Not to rush you, Darling," Jack tried to keep his voice even but there was an unmistakable hint of panic to the words, "but sooner would be better than later."

Emera twisted as far as she could to her left. The ropes fastening the two together dug into her ribs as she reached for its knot. The tether was at Jack's shoulder and so to work at it put her at an awkward angle. It was a tight double-knot that would have benefited from the use of her teeth, but of course she couldn't reach that far. The water was up to their wastes before she got the tie loosened. Her only real talent. She had a way with knots even she couldn't explain. In some way they just… made sense. Everything else took effort to learn. Knots were the only thing she had picked up without trouble. And in a flurry, assisted by Jack as best he could, she was able to free herself from him and him from her. The young sailor leapt to her feet and rushed around to crouch in front of Jack.

"No! Grab my pistol!" He ordered, gesturing to where it lay in the water.

She did. It was too late for their swords. The current had dragged them off the side of the bridge and the weight of the metal sent them plummeting to the bottom. Emera helped to haul Jack to his feet. Standing, the water was only at their knees, but it was rising so fast that in no time it crept slowly up their thighs. The young sailor tucked Jack pistol down the front of the sash he wore around his waist and made sure it was secure there. Then she started on the knot that bound his hands. The whole time he regarded her with an air of suspicion.

"How did you do that?" He eyed her, "Before?"

"What?" She focused on the rope in front of her.

Looking at him for longer than a glance would only bring the embarrassment of what she almost said to him rushing back. Emera couldn't have that. Not while they were still in such imminent danger. No, she would just have to face that later. Or never. She hadn't decided on whether or not the interruption of her confession had been a face-saving blessing or a heart-condemning curse.

"With your bonds." Jack gestured to the discarded rope floating in the water next to them, pulling his hands away from hers.

She shrugged, seizing his hands so she could keep working, "It's just something my father taught me."

"Huh." Jack nodded a little as though he were contemplating something, "A useful trick, to be sure."

"Very." She agreed, "Now, hold still."

Emera frantically worked her short nails against the knot at his wrists. The tie had been pulled tight by his incessant struggling, cinching out any space that might have been between the fibers. The young sailor's fingers trembled as she attempted to pry apart the knot. She was cold and soaked through from the water that was working its way past her hips again. The rope, too, was wet which made it hold all the more fast. Not even her teeth could loosen it. Panic filled Emera's chest, making her fingers clumsy and stupid. They wouldn't do what she wanted them to do. Why wouldn't they work? Jack's life was at stake. Why could she free herself and not him? A collection of unladylike cursing tumbled forward from her mouth. Her swearing was just as clumsy as her hands.

"Shite! Shite! Shite! Bugger! Shite!" She slapped angrily at the water, "I can't do it. Jack, I can't do it. I can't…"

"It's alright, Love." His voice was gentle as he looked at her.

"No." She blinked tears from her eyes, "No. It's not alright. I should be able t' do this. It's the one thing I'm good at. My one gift. I should be able t' do it."

"Look at me." He angled his head so she had to look at him, "It's alright."

"Jack, you need t' know something." Her voice shook, "Before it's too late."

"Tell me." His voice was soft as he rested his forehead against hers, "But keep working at that knot while you do so."

She nodded and did as she was told, "Ever since we met… well it is, you've changed my life."

"For the better, I hope." His dark eyes searched her face.

"Aye." She agreed, "For the better. I wanted t' thank you for that. And tell ya…"

"Tell me?" He prompted when she trailed off.

"Tell you that I…" She took a deep breath, "That I…"

Emera's index finger slipped between the lengths of the rope. The knot at Jack's wrists came free. And both Pirates looked down in astonishment for a moment before glancing up at one another. A look of bliss lit up Jack's face. Pure disbelief must have been plastered across Emera's.

"You've got t' be kidding me!" She cried.

Jack shook loose of the rope and wrapped his arms around her waist, "Hold on to me, Love. Can you swim at all? I only ask because the one demonstration I was privy to didn't last long and looked rather ridiculous."

She couldn't help but smile, "Aye. I can swim."

The water was to their chests now. Looking up Emera could clearly see what Jack's plan was. They would let the water carry them to the opening in the grotto's ceiling. Hopefully from there the two would be able to make their escape. She had to admit, even in a situation that should have been the end of them, Jack had devised a way to escape and Emera had made it possible. He had likely stayed so calm because, even if she hadn't been able to untie his hands, they could have probably swam to the surface together.

"What is it you wanted to tell me?" Jack raised an eyebrow at her.

She beamed at him. For all his cleverness and cunning, he certainly wasn't following along very well. Emera asked herself if this was what she truly wanted. After all this time, after all the things they had done together, she was positive in how she felt. But would telling him ruin what they had as friends? No. She didn't think it would. Besides, he had the right to know. Even if he didn't feel the same way. And if that were the case, she would just have to deal with it. She wouldn't let this destroy what they already had.

It was now or never.

She opened her mouth to tell him, but stopped herself, "T' Hell with it. I probably couldn't put it int' words anyway."

"Put what into words?" Jack furrowed his brow.

Emera grabbed hold of the front of his frock coat and pulled him through the water towards her, closing any distance that might have remained. And then she kissed him. It was chaste, lasting only a moment or two, but it expressed everything her words couldn't. She had never kissed anyone before. But the action was so simple, so natural, that she didn't even have to think about what she was doing. It was right. It was good. It was what she wanted. When she pulled away Jack was staring at her down the length of his nose. His brow was still furrowed and there was a look of confusion in his eyes. The water was up to their chins now. He blinked a few times, struggling to take in what had just happened.

"Oh." His voice was higher than normal as he raised his eyebrows at her, his features flooding with understanding, "Really?"

"Really." Emera nodded, and her reply caused the smallest of smiles to tug at the corner of his mouth.

It sent her heart pounding madly in her chest.

"Emera…" He started.

But the water had begun carrying them toward the open ceiling now, successfully cutting off whatever he would have said. The current pulled them apart briefly, forcing them to tread water if they wanted to stay afloat. The two Pirates reached for each other, gripping on to one another's arms, holding fast as they moved steadily towards the light of day. It was hard to keep themselves from smashing against the rough rock face of the grotto. The water dragged them this way and that. They lined themselves up as best they could, treading desperately while still holding on to one another. When they reached the opening, the bright, high-noon sunlight struck them. They were out. Emera and Jack clambered up the rocky ledge to the flat, grassy landing that made up the grotto's roof. They were soaked to the bone. Laying on their backs, they took a moment to catch their breath. They had made it out of a nearly impossible situation. And glee at their survival seemed to seep in through Emera's very skin.

"We're alive." She giggled.

Jack propped himself up on his elbows, "Aye. Now let's get out of here."

The two scrambled to their feet, wasting no time in getting the Hell away from the Garden's Dragon. They could hear it bellowing still as they picked their way hurriedly down the steep incline. As it turned out, the outside of the grotto made up a rocky hillside overlooking the beach. From where they were they could see most of the island and out across the ocean. The ring of hurricane clouds still loomed ominously in every direction, surrounding the small piece of land. Looking down the ridge, Emera could see they were headed towards the beach. She didn't know where they would go from there. But at least it was at sea level and far away from the Garden.

Jack pulled his compass from his belt and flicked it open. From what Emera could tell, he was following in the direction it was indicating. The young sailor couldn't fathom why they would need to go North, but she trusted him all the same. Even if she was wondering if Jack knew where he was going. The wind came in cool and refreshing off the ocean as they neared the bottom of the hillside. It whipped through Emera's hair and clothes while they followed the thin switchback path to the beach. By the time they hit sand, they were nearly dried out. Kymopoleia and Didumos where nowhere in sight. Emera couldn't help but hope they were long gone. If she never saw them again, it would be too soon.

"Should be just a little further this way." Jack pointed down the beach in the direction they were headed, "That is, of course, trusting that nothing's happened to her."

"Her?" Emera asked, falling into step beside him.

"Aye." He nodded and flashed her a wide smile, his gold teeth catching the sun, "An old friend, as it were."

Emera linked her arm with his and together they rounded the curve of the beach. It wasn't a long walk. And after everything that had happened it was rather relaxing. The two come around the edge of the shore, finding themselves in a small bay. It was maybe fifty paces from side to side and completely deserted of any life save for them. The bay was rimmed by more jutting cliff face and Emera suspected that if they continued beyond the farthest point they would find where she washed ashore. However, they wouldn't have to go that far. There, dragged up a ways into the sand but still being beaten by waves as they crashed along the shore, was what Jack had been looking for. _The Jolly Mon._

"Ah! What I tell you? There she is!" Jack fastened his compass back along his belt.

Emera grinned, running ahead towards the small vessel, "How did she manage t' survive the hurricane? And the Leviathan? My dinghy was dashed t' pieces… I doubt there's anything left of _The_ _Scurvy Servant._"

"_Scurvy Servant_?" Jack made a face as though the words tasted bad, "What a terrible name for a boat."

"I know." Emera giggled, running her hand along the prow of _The Jolly Mon_.

He climbed over the side and into the vessel, "Still, not as bad as say… _The Wicked Wench._ Now that was an unfortunate name."

"I've never heard of that ship." She hopped in beside him, "What is she? Who Captains her?"

"No one now." He explained, taking off his frockcoat and laying it in the bottom of the boat, "She was sunk off the coast of the Canary Islands four years ago. She was a merchant ship working for the East Indian Trading Company. An old, sturdy thing meant for transporting cargo and the like. But she went up in flames and there was nothing to be done."

Emera watched him carefully. He seemed sad as he spoke about the vessel. Jack's hands worked absentmindedly, sorting out the rigging and readying the ship to sail. She wondered what his connection to _The Wicked Wench_ could be.

"Her Captain, you see," Jack went on, "a young man under the employ of the Company and well on his way to a respectable life as a gentlemen, was ordered by his superior to transport Live Cargo to the Bahamas."

_Slaves. _The very idea sent a shudder through Emera's body.

But Jack pressed on, not allowing the awful thought to hang in the air for long, "It was the one thing the Captain said he'd never do. But his superior wanted to punish him for not disclosing the location of a particular island. So he agreed, grudgingly of course. And when they were out far enough the Captain set a new course. He sailed to the island he refused to tell the Company about and he set the slaves free there, knowing they would be safe."

"He did the right thing." Emera confirmed with conviction.

Jack finally looked at her and there was an air of relief in his eyes, "I thought so too. But it cost him everything. His position, his rank…"

"It was worth it." She told him, sure of it herself.

"They took his ship. The one thing he truly loved in this world. The Company set _The Wench _alight in a final act of punishment for defying them." He held her gaze, "And they gave him this…"

Jack pulled up his right sleeve, revealing the branded 'P' permanently scarred into the back of his wrist. It was a shocking, bone white against his richly tanned skin. She had seen it once before. After their escape from the Masque, Jack had shown it to her while in the midst of a furious rant about trust. It would seem that he trusted her now. Emera gingerly took his hand in hers so she could examine the mark more closely. She ran her finger tips over it lightly, tracing its raised shape. The young sailor knew many who bore a similar brand. It was a common practice to mark a Pirate when they were arrested so they could be easily recognized. She didn't even want to think about the pain he would have had to endure. And she thanked her lucky stars that she hadn't gone through it herself.

"You were that Captain." She said, her voice soft as she continued to trace the letter.

"That I was." He watched her, his eyes steady on her face.

"Ya told me, when we first met, that you were born at sea." Emera furrowed her brow and looked up at him, "That you couldn't imagine being anything other than what ya are. Being a Pirate, I mean."

"Both are true." He smiled at her, "I was born at sea. But as I grew circumstances arose and had to be overcome. The path I took lead me to the East Indian Trading Company. And that lead me to where I am now."

"Why are you telling me all this?" She asked, not really following his sudden outburst of deep honesty.

He smiled again, "Back in the grotto you were determined to save my life, even though you struggled to do so. And even if it meant risking your own. No one's done that for me in a long time. I thought I could… repay the favor. Perhaps we needn't always put things aside until our far off 'One Day.' I thought we could start now… with me telling you a story of my past that you'd asked about some time ago."

"I'd like that." She smiled to herself and returned her gaze to his scar, "T' start sharing the things we always put off until later… So _The Wench _was the ship you lost. The first time ya told me about it, you didn't mention her being set ablaze."

"Well, yes and no." He shrugged,"I'm afraid it's a tad more complicated than that."

"Well then… does it have t' do with the deal you made? The one you're running away from?" She asked thoughtfully, "The one you told me about after the Masque?"

"It has," He confirmed keenly, "_everything_ to do with that deal."

"Are ya gonna tell me about it?" She looked at him out from under her eyelashes in what she hoped was a convincing way.

He narrowed his eyes and flashed her his know-it-all grin, "One day."

Emera laughed and shoved him playfully. Of course he wouldn't just start telling her everything. Deep down she knew that. Jack was a complicated person who, she was aware, wasn't about to just open up his life's story and start spilling information. He had trusted her with the story of his brand, though. It was part of the story that concerned his lost ship and the deal he had made. And it was a start. Emera knew that the whole story must be all manner of personal and important. She fully understood that it would take time before he told her everything. And that was time she was all too willing to give.


	10. Part 10

The journey out of the Bermuda Triangle was, by comparison, a walk in the park considering the effort it took to sail in. The sea ushered them out quickly and with little difficulty. Even navigating the hurricane border was nothing worse than sailing through a mild storm. And, mercifully, the Leviathan was nowhere in sight. When _The Jolly Mon_ reached the outer most edge it was met by a strong, Westward breeze rather than the doldrums the two Pirates had been expecting. The Triangle wanted them to leave. And the Pirates were all too happy to comply with its wishes.

It was early morning when they finally broke free of the Triangle's boundaries. The sun was no longer locked in its position of high noon. Instead it rose out of the horizon line behind them, lighting their way and warming their backs. Something in Emera wanted her to find out how that had happened. But she was more concerned with figuring out just how much time had passed since she'd been gone. She prayed her return to Flint's Island would be met with relief and joy instead of anger. Hopefully her family hadn't worried too badly. It was decided that Jack would put in on the island for a short time in order to resupply and set a new course. He had, at first, protested some. Emera had insisted, however. Besides, she would have a much easier time of explaining her disappearance if the proof of why she had gone was with her when she returned.

The two Pirates jumped out of _The Jolly Mon_ and together they brought her as far ashore as they could. Her keel cut into the damp sand with solidity. Even though water surged up around her sides, she would not move from her spot. Jack did a quick, final check to insure that she was set to be left to her own devices. Then, the two headed up the beach together.

"Emera, did Caro-poleia ever keep her word to you?" Jack asked suddenly, breaking the silence, "Did she tell you about your Mum?"

A pang of disappointment struck her through her chest, "No. She didn't. I don't know why I expected she would… Likely as not, she was lying about it."

"But she did recognize your bracelet, did she not?" Jack raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the ornament around her wrist.

"Aye. What of it?" Emera glanced down at the silver cuff.

"Well," Jack shrugged, "perhaps it's not a total loss then. I'm sure someone, somewhere, would know a thing or two about that trinket. Maybe where it came from. Where it was made. I dunno, might there be a chance it could lead you to something about her?"

The young sailor stopped dead in her tracks, "Jack, you're a genius! I'd never given it much thought, but mayhaps yer right. There's a chance this bracelet could be the key to finding out at least something."

"And something would be better than nothing at all, eh?" He flashed her a smile.

"That it would." She agreed and took his arm, leading him down the beach again.

They walked for some time in comfortable silence until the grand old house came into view. This time it was Jack's turn to stop in his tracks with the exclamation of 'You live there?' to which Emera responded to with a laugh and a shrug. If she was being perfectly honest, the answer would have to be no. She didn't live there. Or at least not for the majority of her time. It was true that at one point she called the old house her home. But she hadn't for a long time. Not really, at least. It was just a place she stayed from time to time. As they walked up the slight incline towards the wind whipped building, she found that she missed the strange sort of thrill that had flooded her when she left the island to rescue Jack. Those feelings of independence and freedom were gone. Instead she felt the familiar crush of responsibility. She didn't like it.

Emera glanced at Jack. He was an independent sailor with his own ship (albeit a miniscule one he stole) and no responsibility to anyone save himself. That strange rush of liberation she had felt was his every day. He was his own Captain. There was no one to tell him what to do or where to go. He was completely free. And his being ran wild with its addicting flavor. Emera had tasted it time and time again while in his presence. It was something she longed for. Not just occasionally when she saw him, but every day.

The young sailor lead her friend right through the front door of the house. At once they were met by the sound of domestic life. Laughter and idle chatter wafted through the house from the dining room along with the sounds of utensils clinking plates. They were at breakfast. Emera took Jack's hand, leading him silently down the hall and towards the noise. The housekeeper Ms. Jeuth (an older, French woman that Cookie happened to be rather fond of), was bustling down the hall towards them with an arm load of what looked to be laundry. She smiled pleasantly when their paths met.

"Good morning, Miss Emera." She greeted happily, "You must have risen with the sun today. Did you have a pleasant walk? I see you've found a friend to bring to breakfast. You're just in time."

"Morning." Emera returned, dumbfounded, and watched the housekeeper as she continued past them and up the stairs.

"Problem, Love?" Jack asked in a low voice.

"I… I don't know." She blinked a few times, "She probably thinks yer one of the crew but… surely she would have noticed that I've been gone."

"That's interesting." He mused, looking back to where Ms. Jeuth had disappeared.

Emera took his hand and started down the hall again, "Come on."

The dining room was the first room to the right down the main hall. The white-washed rolling door was open, allowing the noise of Emera's family at breakfast to flow through the house. The room itself was of a large size, with a fireplace on the far side and half-paneled walls of white and blue. To the right were large windows overlooking the front garden and to the left was the swinging door that lead into the kitchen. In the center of the room was a long table that could easily sit more people than were ever in the house at one time. It was laden with what looked to be a wonderful breakfast. And sitting around it in the mismatched chairs were Emera's family. Only her father looked up when she and Jack passed through the door way.

"Ah, there ya are Bean." He grinned up at her from his usual position at the head of the table, "We figured you were still in bed but it looks as though we were mistaken."

"Who is your handsome friend?" Rosa perched her chin on her folded hands, looking over Jack with a mother's smile.

Mai, Emera's step sister, was beaming at Jack from beside her mother. And Cookie twisted about in his chair to take a look as well. It was only the four of them, huddled at Flint's end of the table. None of them looked surprised or relieved to see her. In fact, it seemed as though their only interest was in Jack. Emera thought this strange indeed.

"Ugh." She scratched at her left palm, "This is Jack. Or, rather, I should say Captain Jack Sparrow. He's the friend I was telling ya about. You know, the one from the Midsummer's festival."

"Aye. I remember." Flint eyed Jack suspiciously, but smiled, "Won't ya join us, Mr. Sparrow?"

Jack opened his mouth to correct him, but Emera elbowed him in the ribs and said, "He'd love t'."

The two took the seats closest to them, Emera sitting next to Cookie and Jack sitting next to her. He seemed a little uncomfortable, but smiled all the same. Across the table, Mai hadn't taken her eyes off him. Rosa and Flint didn't seem to notice. Emera glanced at her friend as they dished up their breakfast, wondering what on Earth could be going on.

"Ya look like ya caught a bit of sun, Bean." Flint remarked casually, "Did ya get up early and go on a walk about?"

She and Jack looked at each other before she said slowly, "Aye, that is, I went t' find Jack."

It wasn't in any way a lie. And still her father acted as though it were just a regular morning. As though she hadn't been gone at all.

"I'm going t' ignore the fact that ya somehow managed t' find my well hidden and completely unknown island, Mr. Sparrow," He kept his tone pleasant, but eyed Jack again, "and instead ask ya what brings you t' this part of the Caribbean?"

"Well…" Jack looked at Emera for help.

She shrugged.

"You see…" He thought for a moment, "Your exceedingly lovely daughter, Emera, invited me."

"Is that so?" Flint raised his eyes at her as he reached for another slice of toast, "And how long are ya planning on staying with us?"

"A while, I hope." Mai chimed in with a smile, "You seem terribly interesting, Captain Sparrow."

"We've yet t' discuss it." Emera replied before Jack could, embarrassed by the clear attention her teenaged step-sister was giving her friend.

Rosa laid her hand across Flint's, "Well, you certainly needn't rush. The island is lovely this time of year and we never get the chance to entertain anyone outside of my Husband's employ. Feel free to stay as long as you like."

The meal progressed like that until it was through. Emera's family asked Jack about himself and how he had met her. He answered all their questions honestly (but not in full, opting to leave out a detail here or there) and with patients. The choked, awkward feeling that had threatened to swallow Emera at the beginning was quickly replaced by a sense of ease. Jack was handling it beautifully.

It became abundantly clear through the course of the meal that no one from Emera's family had noticed she was ever gone. As a test, she asked if there had been word yet from Malcolm, her half brother. Flint replied with a kind 'You asked me yesterday and the day before that, I'll tell you once there's news. Promise.' Though that was confirmation enough, she became certain when Cookie pulled her aside, after breakfast was concluded, and asked her if she was still as interest in the Bermuda Triangle as she had been the night before. Emera simply told him, with a smile and a glance at Jack (who had been cornered by Mai), that she had learnt all she needed to know. Somehow, time on Flint's Island had only moved a few hours while she was away. She didn't know how it had happened. But she was thankful that it had. She had succeeded in bringing Jack back from the Triangle and getting him away from Caroline. And she had managed to do so without causing her family undue stress or worry. She couldn't have asked for a better result.

"Your sister seems adamant that I extend my stay." Jack smiled at Emera.

They were sitting on the beach together, looking out at the waves. It had been an effort in itself just to escape the house. Evidently, Jack was a fascinating topic for everyone. The two had picked their way back down the beach, seeking its solitude after the maelstrom of human attention. The two Pirates sat barefoot in the sand now, their boots tossed unceremoniously to one side. Jack was cross-legged in a pose that mimicked meditation. Emera, beside him, lounged with her legs sprawled out before her, resting her weight on her elbows. The sand was warm against her skin. The calm of the beach was a relief.

"I wouldn't be surprised if she started falling for ya, Jack." Emera laughed a little.

He was silent for a moment, a contemplative smile on his face.

"Please don't tell me you actually like the idea of that." She narrowed her eyes, looking at him flatly.

"I wouldn't stand for it." He assured her, but there was no hiding the look of mischief in his eyes as he said it, "Besides, Darling, the last thing I would want is to put you in an uncomfortable situation."

She sighed and avoided looking at him, instead turning her attention back to the waves crashing against the shore, "Do we really need t' talk about this?"

"Well," His smile was audible in his voice, "you did kiss me, Love."

"Need I remind you that you started it?" She raised an eyebrow and looked at him flatly again.

He frowned a little, "Did not."

"Did too." She held his gaze, "In Tortuga when we were exploring the lighthouse. Ya tried to kiss me."

Jack rubbed the side of his face, "Right. And you punched me."

"Mmm hmm." She hummed, nodding.

"Doesn't count." He shrugged.

"Does too." Emera scoffed.

"Does not." He looked at her pointedly, "I didn't know you back then. Now I do."

She raised her eyebrows at him, "Are ya saying you wouldn't try and kiss me now?"

He studied her for a moment before turning his eyes back to the ocean, "I'm not saying that at all, Love."

A smile broke across her face. She reached over and shoved him playfully. Jack laughed, a warm, rich sound. Emera laid back in the sand, stretching out completely. She tucked her hands behind her head and took in the late morning warmth. The young sailor didn't know how she had expected this conversation to go. But it was going surprisingly well.

"So now what?" She closed her eyes against the blinding sunlight.

"In the grand scheme of things or between us?" He asked, his voice lighthearted.

"Either." She replied, genuinely not minding which.

She felt Jack adjust his position beside her, "Grand scheme: It would seem that I'm in need of a new plan as it is the whole Apple thing went to pot. And you've got that business with your Mother to sort out."

She thumbed the edge of her bracelet lightly. He was right. She had a quest of her own to complete now. The question was how? She couldn't divert an entire ship just to serve as the means to her own ends. She had gotten away with it once by chance. But she knew she could never pull it off again. And there was the alarming matter of how badly she longed for the thrill of freedom she had felt while she braved all and hastened to Jack's rescue. She had a responsibility to her ship and to her father. But wasn't it also true that she had a responsibility to herself? Emera knew that she needed to find out what had happened to her mother. If she didn't, then she would spend her whole life wondering. The real question was, could she be willing to leave the comfort and familiarity of her father's ship in order to set off on her own into the unknown?

She didn't know.

"I might return to Tortuga." Jack continued, "It's as good a place to start as any and I have friends there. And you?"

"We're anchored here for at least a month. Maybe more." Emera told him without opening her eyes, "I'm not sure where we'll go after that."

Jack took her hand, his fingers lacing between her own, "No chance of you coming along then, eh? We make a fine team, you and I. I and you. Us."

She turned to look at him, sadness in her chest, "Afraid not, Jackie."

"Shame." His dark eyes searched her face for a moment, then he said with a hint of humor in his voice, "One day, perhaps."

"Aye." Emera agreed, a smile tugging at her lips, "One day."

The End

***Well, we've found ourselves at the end of another story. I'd like to take this chance to thank everyone for reading, particularly those of you who've been on this adventure since 'Welcome to Tortuga.' I have nothing but appreciation for your comments, follows and faves. They mean the world to me. If you've enjoyed reading about Emera's adventures with Jack than please, keep a weather eye out for future installments, because I'm not ready to quit yet. And, as always, just because it says "the end" it doesn't mean it's done just yet.***


	11. Epilogue

_Two Years Later…_

The tavern was, like most taverns were, dingy and overcrowded. Every available table was filled with mismatched collections of seafaring men. They shouted and sang and gambled and drank, filling the space with their clamoring noise. Emera Flint ducked between the tables and past people, her eyes dancing around the room. She took in the strange sights and smells of the place with rabid curiosity. She had never been to Singapore.

It didn't take long for her to spot him sitting at a table by himself. His back was to the wall and his lively brown eyes were taking in his surroundings. Emera smiled. He looked just as she remembered him, only more dishevelled and shaggy. She crossed to his table and sat down in the chair he had set up next to him. A smirk threatened to break out across his lips, but he fought it. Emera pretended she didn't notice.

"I got yer note." She handed him the crumbled and worn piece of paper she had carried with her since receiving it.

"Good to know you still check the old spot every now and then." Jack glanced at her.

She shrugged and said, "So. Singapore."

"Aye." He nodded, "Singapore."


End file.
